


The Thief and the Soldier

by AvoidingAverage



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Amarantha is the worst, Amarantha sucks, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Empath, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Love, Mates, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Romance, Smut, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 61
Words: 146,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage
Summary: Rhysand was not the only broken creature to escape the horrors of Under the Mountain.  Now, a generation later, a new monster is working to bring Amarantha back to life and it's up to a mysterious thief and a High Lord's son to stop them.





	1. The Thief

Kali

Far above the bustling streets of Kharos, Kali blew warm air over her freezing hands and cursed the job that had brought her to this gods forsaken wasteland. The freezing wind pulled at the long white hair she’d braided into a tight braid to keep it out of her face. She could smell the heavy scent of the many evergreen trees that masked the smells that typically plagued large cities like this. It was one of the few pleasant things she’d experienced in the Winter Court’s capital city.

She settled deeper into her fur lined cloak and wished, not for the first time, that she could’ve risked staying near one of the metal braziers that radiated tantalizing heat for those making their way through the city. That her target could have been hidden away somewhere warmer like the Summer Court. Hell, she’d willingly risk the guards of Autumn at this point.

The sounds of laughter and music drifted up as someone opened the door to one of the inns that lined the street and she scowled. All she needed was the damned guards to change shifts so she could finally move away from the secluded alcove she’d chosen several days ago when she’d cased the Winter Palace. Of course, Kali hadn’t considered how cold it would get once the sun disappeared early in the evening. 

Finally, finally, Kali caught sight of the captain of the guard signalling a guard shift to the men on watch and gave a feral grin of triumph. She was glad to see those massive white bears that walked the grounds with their handlers were already put away for the night--she had no intention of tangling with those beasts if she could help it. 

With a rallying breath, she tugged her cloak loose and left it in the shadow of the isolated parapet that guarded the castle’s southern wall. The thin body suit blended perfectly into the thick snow on the roofs of the palace and she prepared herself for a miserable night of crawling through the snow. Launching herself off the parapet, Kali landed lightly on the balcony that ran parallel to the wall. 

Heights had never bothered her. It would almost be a relief to die in a quick flash of pain and sudden stillness compared to the violent spasms and coughing screams of her childhood. Kali relished each moment in the open air as a symbol of the freedom she’d ripped free from a dying woman’s grasp.

Focusing on the problem in front of her, she considered the best way to enter and exit the palace without catching any unwanted attention. The snow was a pain in the ass, she decided quickly. It made it difficult to avoid leaving any traces of her passing and was so bloody cold. Her hands were shaking by the time she found the window she’d marked as her access point yesterday. It was a relief to jimmy the lock on the unused rooms connected to the landing and step into the warm building. 

From there, it was only a matter of changing into the servant’s uniform that was carefully folded in her satchel and slipping out into the hall. She’d snagged one of the white sheets that lay over the furniture in the unused bedroom and carried it in her arms with a frustrated expression as though she’d been summoned from her bed in the middle of the night to change the sheets of some incontinent guest. Royals and their courtiers never looked twice at a servant girl, even at this hour.

Kali curtseyed to a group of drunk ladies maids that were giggling outside the Main Hall where she could hear the sounds of revelry continuing. Every night it seemed the people of Winter gathered together to drink the hot alcoholic beverage that was popular around here and sit close to the roaring fires that lined each of the major gathering rooms. Not that she could blame them--alcohol and heat were the only good things about this place as far as she was concerned.

Moving down the hallways in a clipped place, she kept her eyes peeled for the markers that would indicate that she was going in the right direction. A statue of a former High Lord here, a painting of an evergreen forest there. It all seemed to indicate that her informant had been worth the amount of money she’d paid them.

The Winter Palace was a marvel of gleaming marble and roaring fireplaces that were as tall as the domed ceilings above. If it wasn’t so miserable outside, she might be tempted to stay in a place like this. The layout of the palace that she memorized days ago ensured she made her way to the carefully guarded storage room in a deserted wing, near the center of the building. 

Her prize lay hidden inside.

Tossing the sheet to the floor, she studied the two guards standing dutifully beside the locked room. Lowering her mental shields with a caution, Kali winced as waves of raw emotion pulsated from the two silent figures. Pulling on that glimmer of magic that was imprinted within her soul, she drew on the sensation of utter weariness and exhaustion and projected it outward. 

It sank into their skin like the sensation of spent muscles after a hard days work in the sun. Within moments, they were beginning to sway and lean more heavily against the wall.

Kali concentrated a little harder on combining notes of peace and calm until she was rewarded with the sound of two armored males sliding to the ground in sleeping heaps. She stepped over them carefully and examined the door with a pleased expression.

“Hello, my beauty,” she whispered to it. “I’ve come to set you free.”

The lock was one of those complicated numbers that convinced the rich that their precious baubles were safe. So, instead of attempting to pick that lock with the limited amount of time she had before someone noticed the sleeping guards, Kali oiled the hinges and pulled their pins so the door slid open with a soft groan. She hummed a bawdy tavern song as she carefully moved the door to the side without waking the sleeping guards.

With a friendly pat to the lock, she slipped into the dimly lit room and carefully looked through the gleaming piles of treasure within. She ignored the collection of intricate jewellry and crowns in favor of a lesser used corner of the room. 

When Fletcher had approached her with information for the job, she’d initially laughed in his face. She’d heard countless tales of artifacts recovered from Under the Mountain but after countless failures, Kali had given up on finding anything legitimate. This time though...Fletcher had known too many details for her to dismiss his tale as pure fantasy.

Unfortunately for her, the little weasel also sold that information to a number of interested parties, forcing her to drop what she was doing and head for the Winter Court. In the middle of one of the awful blizzards that plagued the region. 

The room was filled with chests overflowing with enough wealth and treasure that she was tempted to take more than she planned. The sensation of a familiar, tainted magic kept her from straying far. It was here.

Rifling through a few of the chests, she felt her heart go still when she found a small square parcel wrapped in a stained red fabric that brought back memories of bloodshed and fear.

Ah my little one, how could you ever fear me?

The memory of the voice she both loved and feared made her fingers spasm over the cover of the ornately carved spellbook. Amarantha’s spellbook.

Before she could lose her nerve, Kali thrust the book into her bag and made her way out of the room. She didn’t bother with any of the other treasures or the guards still sleeping on the floor in the secluded hallway. Her mind was lost in the memories of a kingdom hidden Under the Mountain and on getting far away from the bitter cold of the Winter Court.


	2. The Soldier

Rhone

“The old man finally passed,” Thrace said casually to Rhone between bites of steaming potatoes.

Rhone watched their mother nearly reach across the table and smack his elder brother on the back of the head, nevermind that he was more than one hundred years old and general of all the Winter Court armed forces. “Thrace!”

Phinn, their younger brother, chuckled at her side as their father leaned forward in his seat and asked, “Do you mean Dolen?”

Thrace nodded, his icy blue eyes he shared with Phinn and their father were bright, scheming. “So that means we need a new battalion leader.” 

Rhone was growing tired of family dinners. “You know how I feel about that already, brother.” 

They were seated in the private dining room their parents had established nearly two centuries ago, after they finally wed. The story of Kallias finally admitting his love for Vivienne before he’d been trapped Under the Mountain for forty nine years at the Hybern commander Amarantha’s hand was well known throughout their continent of Prythian. These days, the High Lord and Lady of the Winter Court enjoyed the quiet quality time of a dinner with their three sons each night, but it was building into something Rhone dreaded.

Thrace was always trying to make him do something. 

“You can’t be a mercenary forever - it’s the job of a recluse, someone with no ambition. Perhaps if you simply stood in the role until another proved themselves worthy?” Thrace proposed, but Rhone had long learned of his brother’s games.

“No.”

With an offhanded shrug, Phinn spoke up, as he was so known for, “You know he’ll never do anything without those dogs.”

“Surely you wouldn’t have to give up your wolves,” Vivienne reassured him, her eyes turning to her husband, Kallias, their father who shook his head.

Rhone wanted to point out that it had nothing to do with his two arctic wolves and everything to do with the job itself, but that was too reasonable an argument for his brothers.

As if they’d heard, Freja and Juno slipped in the double doors at the High Lord’s back on silent paws. They gave the room a brief sniff before coming to sit beside him, Freja always on the left and Juno always on the right. Rhone braced himself for anyone who dared comment about their entrance, but surprisingly Thrace had other news. 

“Delorea and her friend are coming to court tomorrow and I’d like to bring them to dinner, if that’s alright,” he said as he finished the last sip of stew. Turning to his father, Thrace waited. Rhone had never understood why no one simply asked their mother first - she would be the one to decide. 

The mating bond between his parents was strong and apparent. They spoke through it often, leaving onlookers in awe of the closeness. Rhone wasn’t sure he would ever want someone to have access to his thoughts that way.

“Of course,” their father replied after a small pause and a quick look over to their mom. 

Thrace turned to Rhone and he saw the waiting question there. The two of them had always been the closest of the three brothers, Phinn always being the free thinker, or as Thrace and Rhone always said, the baby. In recent years, however, Thrace had begun to take a new shape as a male and a leader. It was driving a wedge between him and Rhone that Rhone wasn’t willing to work through. Not yet anyway. 

Rhone raised his brow to his brother, refusing to speak first. 

“They want you to join us for lunch, or maybe a walk through the gardens in the early afternoon,” Thrace finally asked. The table around them grew painfully quiet.

Juno raised her muzzle by Rhone’s hip, her ears whipped back - alert. He shot her a glance that made her stand and pad out of the room leaving her sister behind and unsettled. The pure white wolf circled her master’s chair idly, waiting for Juno’s return.

Rhone met his mother’s gaze, the only two in the room without the blue eyes of the Winter Court instead a startlingly pale grey. Vivienne furrowed her brow and he offered her a slight shake of his head. She was the only one who loved his pets in the same way he did.

“I don’t want to meet her,” Rhone said, turning his attention back to Thrace the Matchmaker. “I have no interest in being set up or in a female from Hybern.” He had seen enough bloodshed in the fallout since the war, tensions still thick in some of the more rural areas of all the courts. There had been too many stories told to him from his parents, his generals - too much bloodshed for him to forgive such atrocities. 

Thrace rolled his eyes. “It’s not like she was on the battlefields hundreds of years ago. Cut her some slack.”

“It’s not happening,” Rhone muttered, distracted. Juno had been gone too long. He clicked his tongue and Freja was at his side, head in his lap in an instant. He tossed his head toward the door and she left him without hesitation, following after her sister.

Kallias polished off the last of his wine. “Perhaps you should just give the girl a chance. You never know what someone’s like until you meet them.”

Rhone wanted to remind them all that he was an adult capable of meeting and bedding and loving his own females, but he kept his snarky comments to himself. They had all been trying harder to find him company after he’d had his heart broken, but that was years ago now.

It meant nothing. 

“Fine,” he said through tight lips. “I’ll go on a walk,” he finished with a mocking gesture. 

Phinn laughed from where he was leaning on the back two legs of his fine chair. “Who goes on walks for fun?”

Rhone shot him an appreciative look and was about to intensify their making fun of Thrace when Freja burst through the door, the hairs along her spine stiff straight. He rose to his feet immediately, not bothering to offer an explanation as she turned from the room and he followed her. They flew down the quiet white halls of the palace they called home, their footfalls echoing through the emptiness. 

He followed Freja implicitly and he eventually heard the distant sounds of Juno’s softest growl. He slowed, Freja settling her pace beside him as he let their movements join the silence. He turned the last corner with Freja behind him, his back to the wall and one hand on the blade he never took off his belt.

Juno faced the door to the eastern safe room and its guards were sound asleep on their asses. The door hung open at an odd angle. Rhone’s lip curled. “Get ‘em,” he said softly. 

Juno’s whispering growls turned malevolent. Both wolves rushed the sleeping guards with snarls that would wake the dead. The males gasped awake, fear in their eyes as they tried to crawl away only to be stuck with their backs against the wall. 

Rhone stood between his white wolves. “Explain yourselves.” He tried not to think that the authority in his voice would please Thrace.

They stammered. “I don’t know,” the one on the right finally said. 

“I don’t know what happened,” said the one on the left.

“Get up,” Rhone snapped. “Pull yourselves together and do your damn jobs.” He turned away with a bitter righteousness, his girls trailing after him. 

Something didn’t feel right.

He decided to scout the halls, sending Juno and Freja in opposite directions. He’d nearly given up, had his fingers already bent for the whistle he would call his wolves back with, when he caught a glimpse of movement in a typically vacant hall. He tread carefully along the white marble toward a half open doorway, only seeing as he came closer that it was being shut very slowly - too slowly. 

He stepped to the door, sticking his boot barely into the room so it wouldn’t be able to latch. His chest grew heavy as he controlled his breath, blending himself into the silence around him. With a flat hand on the face of the door, he started to press - gently at first, enough to startle whomever thought it would be a good idea to hide in an abandoned women’s dressing room. 

But then there was an intake of breath, startled, and so soft his senses prickled. They were playing this game of breathless cat and mouse. His right hand fell to his blade once more, unsheathing it with a practiced silence. 

He threw the door open and a hooded figure pounced, a knife at the ready in their small, feminine hands. She knicked his throat and he held her in place, some deep voice telling him not to launch her into the nearest wall and shed her blood. Manners, he could hear his mother saying.

This is not the time, Mom. 

Two beastly growls rolled through the air behind him and the stranger shoved herself off him revealing smooth caramel skin of her mostly covered face and a long braid of silver hair. Juno and Freja flanked him, their teeth on full display as they approached the female. There was a bag tossed to the side and a servant’s uniform wrinkled in a thoughtless heap on one of the small dressing stools. 

A conflict twisted in the eyes of the beautiful stranger and Rhone realized she was watching his wolves, staring at their collars. 

He hissed, quick and short like an asp. Juno and Freya quieted, dropping to the marble floors to wait on their bellies for his next command. 

“I’ll give you one chance to explain yourself,” he told her as he racked his mind through the inventory of the safe room, considering which of his family’s collected objects would fetch the highest price and where she would have stowed it in that tight fitting bodysuit. 

She kept her chin down, her identity hidden. “I am so sorry, sir. I’m just a maid trying to sneak out for a night in the bars. I’ll return to my rooms at once.”

Rhone did not fancy liars. “Allow me to escort you, my lady.”

He felt her eyes on him beneath the shadows of her hood. “Thank you, sir.”

“Lord,” he corrected. “I am your Lord, as an heir to the crown.”

The thief grit her teeth and his adrenaline built waiting for their brawl to begin, but if she wanted to play games until he arrested her, he would revel in it. 

“My Lord,” she offered with another curtsy and he commended her for the lack of iron resistance in her tone. Too bad he could feel it in the way she moved, her small lean figure like a cat waiting to flee. 

He stepped closer, darkening his gaze. “Could I take you to my room before I walk you to yours?” She tensed, heat radiating from her stillness. “Well, it’s not really my room. A room,” he amended. He leaned in until he could finally see the deep blueish grey of her eyes and whispered, “It’s more like a cell.”

She spat in his face, her knife back to his throat but he was ready for her, blocking her attack with his forearm. He lifted his blade but she dropped before it could land, twisting out a leg and pulling his feet out from under him. She fled, Juno and Freja instinctively following her barking off alarms that any guard that had ever heard of Rhone would understand. 

Quick as a thought, the thief spun on her heel and darted for the door that connected to the balcony. As she ran, she overturned several pieces of furniture that still lay partially covered under their dust cloths. Juno snarled when she was forced to leap over a small tea table, slowing her pursuit.

Without hesitation, the stranger threw open the door and raced to the balcony beyond, stopping at the railing. Rhone slowed as he caught up to her and signaled to his wolves to retreat from the chase and guard the door and exit.

“We’re three stories up. You won’t survive a fall like that,” he said, eyeing her. “Surrender.”

The thief grinned at him, her eyes sparkling behind the pale grey scarf, “And if I don’t?”

“I will take you by force,” Rhone replied shortly.

“Promise, princeling?” she asked coyly and he got the feeling she was laughing at him.

“Enough,” he said and took another step onto the balcony. 

Before he could take another step, the thief leapt gracefully onto the ledge of the railing and blew him a kiss. Without hesitation, she jumped into the icy darkness of the air beyond.

Heart in his throat, Rhone cursed and raced for where the thief had disappeared into the gloom of the night in time to watch her effortlessly pull herself over the edge of the parapet. She turned, gave him a dramatic bow and raced away.


	3. The Hunt Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhone

Rhone was visibly fuming hours later when he finally gave up the search that his brother’s men would continue through the night. His father had summoned his sons to meet on the same balcony the thief had jumped from to rally their information after the initial search revealed nothing. He leaned over the railing, the icy wind of the night like pins on his cheeks. 

Juno and Freja stood loyally at his side and he was grateful for their presence, as always; though he needed to get them to bed. Freja’s eyes were in the heavy place between watchdog and unconsciousness as she leaned against his leg.

He stared at the place the thief had bowed to him and could practically hear that velvet voice calling out to him. 

Princeling.

He clenched his jaw.

Juno stood up on his right and he turned to see Thrace and his father in their general’s coats joining him on the balcony, Phinn following behind them still in his dinner clothes. 

“She only took one thing,” Kallias said as he sucked in a breath and crossed his arms. 

Rhone met his father’s eyes. “I figured as much. She didn’t have a whole lot of storage space on her. What was it?”

“A book,” his father answered. 

Confused, Rhone turned his eyes back over the balcony’s edge, as if she would be standing beneath taunting him with her book. “A book?”

“A spellbook,” Kallias confirmed. “Amarantha’s spellbook.”

Rhone whipped around, his interest piqued. 

“Who is Amarantha again?” Phinn asked as he bent toward Freja who wagged her tail as he came near, rolling over onto her back so he could rub her belly.

Thrace made a small sound of annoyance as he shifted his weight between legs. Rhone wondered what had his elder brother so edgy, but asking wasn’t worth having to listen to Thrace go on about himself for as long as Rhone knew he would. 

“From Under the Mountain.” Rhone watched his little brother play with his sleepy pup, fully aware of Juno watching the interaction nearby. 

Thrace stepped away from them, turning to scan the rooftops in the distance that were covered in the neverending snow of their lands. Perhaps he was just as interested in catching this thief as Rhone was. 

Rhone looked back to his father. Shadows fell behind his tired blue eyes and Rhone cursed that this event would make his father relive his imprisonment, even in his memories. “Why would someone want her spellbook?”

Kallias offered a small shrug of one shoulder and glanced at Thrace. They exchanged a look that turned Rhone’s stomach.

“What?” he hated them for making him ask. 

Thrace’s features cooled into stone. “We are not the first court that has been robbed recently.”

The tiny red line on Rhone’s neck throbbed and he considered any of his sources throughout the other courts. “Who else?”

“We’ve already reached out to a few other courts,” Thrace started, but Rhone cut him off.

“Who else?” he asked his father as Thrace scoffed off in his usual huff.

Kallias met his stare. “Dawn and Spring--that we know of.” 

Phinn sat against the balcony railing and tossed the shells of the walnuts he’d been munching on into the darkness. “At least we were robbed by someone famous,” he said with a chuckle. 

Rhône’s already sharp temper rose at the reminder that he had nearly had his hands on this elusive thief, but he’d underestimated her. It was a mistake he had no intention of repeating. 

“Have the guards search anyone attempting to leave Kharos,” Thrace was saying, pulling Rhône from his murderous thoughts, “If we can keep her in the city, we can run her to ground and capture her and the book before she can hope to fence it.”

Kallias nodded, eyeing the winter storm that rattled the window panes, “Select your best guards to begin a search. Maybe they can clear out the Warrens while they’re at it.”

Thrace nodded and started toward the door, pausing when Rhône’s growl cut through the silence, “I will find her.”

There was a beat of silence as Thrace and his father exchanged a glance. Rhône wondered if they could hear him gritting his teeth. 

“You don’t have the resources to track her on your own,” Kallias said with a placating look, “Let the guard do their jobs.”

With a sharp whistle, Juno and Freya bounced to his side and Rhône stared resolutely at his family, “ I will find her and I will make her pay for her crimes.”

Without bothering to wait for approval or his father's blessing, Rhône stalked out of the room, the thrill of the hunt like a pounding drum in his veins. 

Oh, he would find his little thief and when he did all of Prythian would see her brought to justice.


	4. Tavern Song

Kali

Far beneath the pristine streets and watchful eyes of the Winter Court’s soldiers, lay a sanctuary for thieves, bandits, and all manner of thugs. The Warren was a maze of old sewage tunnels and partially excavated passages that hid a sanctuary of sorts for anyone attempting to live outside the law. Kali nursed a mug of some unknown amber liquid at the bar located in the heart of the Warren, a place charmingly called the Shit Hole. Not for the first time, she cursed the princeling who was forcing her to lay low in this frozen wasteland.

After she’d been discovered by the white haired whelp and his dogs, she’d been forced to retreat beneath the city until the morning. Unfortunately, when she’d headed to the city gates at dawn, Kali had run into a long line of merchants and travelers that were being searched and questioned by armed soldiers. She’d barely managed to get back to the Warrens without being stopped by the sharp-eyed guards.

Her head was pounding already from the violent and malignant thoughts of the people around her. They swamped her senses and forced her to keep her shields up at all times. 

She hated cities.

She craved the heat, humidity, and most of all peace of her tiny home in the Summer Court. It was the only area she’d ever risked setting up a permanent home for herself. Or, at least, the closest thing to permanent she’d ever managed.

The burly barkeep leaned over the counter and snatched her glass away with a grunt, “I’m not paying you to drink, Jessa. Get your ass up there.” 

Stevri prided himself in providing his mass of unwashed patrons the best music in the Warrens every night. His tavern seemed to be falling apart at the seams, but somehow he managed to keep a gleaming pianoforte in the corner to accompany a tired looking band of musicians. The piece was his pride and joy and he guarded it like a dragon with its treasure. Many thought the massive guards at the other end of the bar were there to break up fights but Kali knew their only job was to ensure that the stage and pianoforte remained untouched. 

Kali wanted to scowl at Stevri but needed the money too much to risk losing this gig. So she smiled the cheerful smile of Jessa and stood to go to the makeshift stage at the corner of the tavern. The musicians looked up with interest as she climbed onto the raised dias and slung her heavy cloak to the side, exposing the tight shirt and pants she wore beneath.

If she weren’t forced to pay an ungodly amount of money to the prince of this frozen underworld, a demi-fae who called himself Stryker, she could be hiding out in a quieter location. It was almost insulting to have to parade around as Jessa, the tavern singer, when she was really the most wanted criminal in Prythian.

The tavern patrons continued to chatter among themselves so Kali signaled to the men behind her before launching into a bawdy song about a lass looking for her missing piece. It was a calculated way to draw the attention of the room and warm up her voice before launching into something more serious. As she sang, she pulled on her powers and sent out waves of joy and excitement into the crowd until the whole room stopped, to listen and laugh along with the ridiculous lyrics. 

Her voice trailed the final note and she smiled prettily at the drunken men who stumbled forward with offers of their company. She batted her eyelashes at them as they moved within touching distance and she could feel the beat of their interest like a drumbeat against her shields. A burly man stationed near the bar for just such an occasion sent them off with a single gesture from the scarred club in his massive hand. But not before Kali relieved the fools of their coin purses. In the Warrens, a few missing coins was expected if you dared to drink or try your luck with the sharp-eyed lasses hanging around the bar.

It was almost too easy to pad her pockets in between jobs with the money from these temporary stents in shady taverns that edged every major city in Prythian. No one asked questions about a sweet girl from Summer just looking for enough money to make it back home. . 

Kali let the silence build in the room as each person leaned forward to hear the first notes of her next song. Letting that anticipation grow until she was sure that everyone was focused on her as she opened her mouth and let her husky voice fill the room. 

The song that came to mind was not one she typically chose for these kinds of crowds, but the spellbook’s presence lay heavily on her mind and made her usual jaunty tunes seem vapid and weak against the turmoil she faced. 

There was a lady, of a gentle court  
All alone, all alone,  
She fell in love with a soldier of a sort,

She loved him up, she loved him down,   
All alone, all alone,  
She loved him till he filled her arms 

She leaned her back against a thorn,   
All alone, all alone,  
And there she had two fine babies born. 

 

The thief wove a tale like a weaver’s tapestry over the now silent crowd and ignored the fact that the musicians had fallen silent behind her—too caught up in her words to remember the instruments in their hands. Instead she created a symphony of sound and sensation that had tears running down the faces of her audience. 

She pulled down her auburn hair,   
All alone, all alone,  
She bound it ‘round their feet and hands. 

She pulled out a wee penknife,   
All alone, all alone,  
Stabbed those two babes to the heart. 

She laid them under a marble stone,   
All alone, all alone,  
Then she turned as a fair maid home. 

Kali felt as much as saw when the effects of her own emotions ripples over the crowd. Grief. Sorrow. Even guilt if she was honest with herself. 

You wiped your penknife on your shoe,   
All alone, all alone,   
The more you wiped, more red grew 

You laid us under a marble stone,   
All alone, all alone,   
Now you go as a fair maid home. 

Babes, oh, babes, it's Heaven for you,   
All alone, all alone,   
Mother, oh, mother, it's Hell for you. 

A movement in the doorway of the tavern had her eyes moving to the stunned face of the prince. Her note trailed off mid-verse as they gaped at each other in mirrored surprise. The crowd murmured, shifting as though slowly awakening from a fever dream as she lost her hold on her magic. 

Instinctively, Kali reached for her magic again to soothe the crowd once more, but lost her hold as a new wave of power washed over her. It didn’t attack or rip through her like anything she’d ever experienced. It sank into her skin like the rays of sunlight through a window pane and brought with it a pure power that made her own reserves seem unnecessary as she continued to stare at Rhone. 

An amplifier, she thought with a mirthless laugh. The damned prince was an amplifier. 

Suddenly the fact that the spellbook was still in Kharos seemed like the greatest risk she’d ever taken. 

The thought sent gut wrenching fear through her and that glowing power made her own powers greedily expand over her audience. Fear and anger at the fact that she was trapped in this awful hellhole because Amarantha’s legacy refused to die had the people in the crowd around beginning to grumble and fidget. The prince began to weave his way through the crowded room, unaware of the mounting tension in the air that Kali could taste like a fine wine. 

Meeting his eyes, she drew on that power he’d gifted her and flung it into the crowd with deadly ease. Fury and violence hit the fae gathered there like a blow and she watched in satisfaction as all that emotion exploded into fist fights and shouts of rage. The prince was forced to duck down as the female closest to him swung at his head and the sight of his shocked frustration made her grin widen. 

Snatching her coat off the back of the chair, Kali darted to the kitchens, out the back door, and into the cooler night air. Tucking her hands into her pockets, she began to stroll down the quiet street, whistling a jaunty tune.


	5. The Chase

Rhone

 

Rhône stumbled out of the building, bleeding from a small cut above his eye and cursing a blue streak. The building behind him was close to falling apart as the violence within reached a crescendo. Already, the night shift guards were beginning to wade into the melee to pull apart the patrons who’d been laughing and enjoying their evening just a few minutes earlier. 

What the hell happened?

When he’d decided to wander through the Warren this evening, he never expected to find the thief standing on a stage in the middle of his favorite dive bar. Her voice had ripped the air from his lungs and nearly brought tears to his eyes as she crooned a lament that left the whole room staring at her in wonder. Distantly, he’d known he should be reaching for her or calling the guards that patrolled near here to help apprehend this dangerous criminal, but all he could do was watch. 

Then those grey eyes had turned to him and the magic in the air disappeared with a suddenness that made him stagger. Shock and alarm flickered over her expressive face before setting on cunning. Rhône began to shoulder his way through the crowd, intent on capturing the thief who’d already made a fool of him once. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

It had taken him far too long to extract himself from the riot inside and cost him precious moments that he was sure the thief would use to put distance between them. He’d taken a chair across his head from a ancient looking drunk woman and another male clipped his jaw with a haymaker that seemed to come out of nowhere. Now he was sore all over from forcing his way through that insane crowd and ready for his revenge. He would not let her escape against.

Rhone wished he hadn’t left Freya and Juno behind with Phinn for the evening. At the time, it seemed like the best way to avoid attracting attention, but now he wished he could rely on them to track his prey through the icy streets. Still, he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

Dashing down the street, he raced for the first cross section he could find, hoping to catch some kind of clue or see her. The only advantage he had was his knowledge of the city and the relatively few citizens that were out on the streets at this time of night. 

Looking left and right to empty streets, Rhone sprinted straight again--hoping that the next intersection might give him better results. He pulled back the hood from a drunk male leaning against one of the walls, ignoring the curse thrown his way and continued down the street. If he was being sensible, Rhone would call for the night watch guards to help close down this section of the city for a more thorough search. Realistically, his odds of finding this thief were becoming slimmer with each passing minute--but seem to find his voice or slow his hurried pace.

The possessiveness that thrummed through his body was nothing short of the thrill of the hunt and the knowledge that his prey was near. He would bring his little thief back to the palace and she paid for every embarrassed moment and sleepless night he’d had since she’d leapt from that balcony.  
His shoulders slumped in frustration when the next intersection yielded nothing but another stumbling drunk whistling a merry tune and a teenager rummaging hopefully through the bins left outside by the shop owners each night. Rhone raked a hand through his hair with a sigh, then paused, listening with more interest. 

He knew that tune.

It was the ribald song that had trickled through the loose slats of the tavern at the edge of the Warren, radiating laughter and warmth. That song and sensation had been enough to draw him closer, to enter into the packed building and come face to face with the female he’d been searching for.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins and his heart pounded a fierce rhythm as he watched the figure of what he’d assumed was another drunk finding their way home after a long night with renewed interest. Silently, he melted into the shadows of the city he’d grown up in to follow his prey. They were the same height as her--though with the cloak and hood pulled high, he couldn’t be sure. 

It wasn’t until the figure stopped to slip free the coin purse of a passing guardsmen that Rhone had his answer. She managed it with a casual grace that he had to admired. The soldier barely glanced at the cheerful thief as he hurried towards the bar fight that must still be going strong in the Warrens.

He forced himself not to approach her right away. To let her move into one of the more isolated alleys and become confident that she hadn’t been followed or found by any of the royal guards combing the streets. 

Then, he made his move.

Rhone slammed the thief against the rough stone, only then realizing just how tiny she was against his muscular body. They grappled for a moment until he managed to force her arms above her head, pinning her against the wall with his larger frame. Grey eyes blazed up at him, bright against the caramel of her skin and the moonlight of her hair. His eyes traced the high cheekbones and delicate nose, down to the lush curve of her lip in fascination. She was furious and continued to struggle against his hold for her weapons or to escape.

She was beautiful. Bright and shining as the moon that hung above as a silent witness to their meeting.

This close, Rhone could tell that she was not from Winter, but from Summer. She bore the iconic dark skin and pale hair that also graced their High Lord, Tarquin. The grey of her eyes were threaded through with the same blue of his, now that Rhone was close enough to see it.

He told himself that he only noticed the attractiveness of his thief because he needed to be able to find her again if she ever escaped. Or that they would need to send out proof that the female they’d captured in Winter was the same thief that had stolen from the other courts as well. The reminder that this tiny female was destined for the prison beneath the Winter Palace helped bring him back to earth.

“We meet again, thief,” he purred, not bothering to hide his triumph.

The thief shifted more comfortably against him--as though she was used to being thrown against walls by High Lords’ sons. His lips twitched at her audacity.

“Took you long enough to find me, princeling,” she replied casually, batting her ridiculously long lashes at him.

“Are you implying that you wanted me to find you?” he asked incredulously.

“Maybe I was getting tired of waiting for you to find me on your own.” She grinned when he growled in annoyance.

“So now that I’m right where you want me--” Rhone swore to himself that that wasn’t really an invitation, “--what do you intend to do now?”

She opened her mouth, then frowned--staring at some place beyond his shoulder. Rhone started to ask her what she was doing, when she suddenly jerked herself, and him, to the right.

Thunk.

They both stared in shock at the arrow embedded in the wall next to her head.


	6. Enemies and Allies

Kali

 

Kali’s mind was a wild mixture of the triumph and attraction of her little princeling and a moment of vicious anticipation that distracted her from the male currently ruining her night. There was no hesitation--only the honed survival instincts that were lovingly crafted in Amarantha’s care. She took advantage of the prince’s distraction and shoved hard against him, only managing to shift him slightly.

What did they feed these Winter Court males? Stones?

Luckily, surprise weighed in her favor and she was rewarded with the quivering end of an arrow vibrating in the wall, only inches from her head. Someone was clearly not a fan.

“Move,” she snapped at the prince, surprised once again when he shifted with liquid grace a few inches away. It wasn’t nearly as much space as she’d like, but it was a start. He stayed close as she streaked across the alley to another pile of wooden refuse to the tune of another arrow striking the earth nearby. Mother’s tits, just who was shooting at her?

“Friends of yours?” Rhone drawled as they huddled behind the largest crates. Kali risked glancing around the edge but hissed out a breath when another arrow nearly took out her eye.

“Clearly not, since they’re trying to kill me.”

“Do you have many enemies in Kharos?”

Kali gave him an annoyed look. “I’m a thief. We aren’t typically popular with anyone.”

He gave her a grin that drew her attention to his full lower lip and an intriguing little dimple in his left cheek. There was something about him. Something about the way he watched her and refused to allow her to disappear. She forced her mind to focus on her current threat. Thoughts like that would only create more complications in her already chaotic world.

If she could make it to the edge of the alley, she could probably make it to cover before the shooter was able to adjust his position. The prince was the problem. He had a stubborn set to his jaw that told her he had no intention of letting her escape again without a fight. But she needed to get rid of her hulking shadow if she was going to be able to track down just who thought they could get away with shooting at her. Maybe she could sprint while he was stuck behind cover...

As if sensing where her thoughts were heading, Rhone’s hand wrapped around her wrist in an ironclad grip that made her instinctively try to jerk away. Before Kali could do more than curse in surprise, she felt cool metal circle her wrist and the soft click of a lock closing. Her grey eyes stared in disbelief at the thin metal circlet that linked her wrist to his with a foot long chain.

Raw fury and panic made her mind go blank for a moment as she realized what he’d done. Before he could do more than look mildly satisfied, she surged forward, slugging him in the jaw hard enough for him to give a grunt of pain. It was hard to tell who was cursing louder as they grappled behind their meager cover. 

She was going to kill him--with her bare hands if need be.

Another bolt landed nearby, distracting them from their violent tussle and they broke apart, panting slightly. Wrath was still simmering in her veins as she narrowed her eyes at him, “You’re going to pay for that.”

Rhone rubbed the edge of his jaw with his free hand, his own temper making his blue-green eyes bright, “Did you think I didn’t have a plan to keep you contained when I caught you?”

“I didn’t think you were dumb enough to handcuff us together while someone was trying to kill me!”

“Don’t worry, thief. I won’t let them kill you until you’ve had a fair trial.”

It was then that she realized for the first time in her life, she couldn’t sense any emotions nearby. She may as well be blind now for all her magic could help her ensure the shooter’s whereabouts. The cuffs must be blocking her magic somehow. No doubt they’d been designed to help guards track down and arrest unwilling magic users. Kali began to curse, low and vicious and creative enough that the High Lord’s son arched an eyebrow at her.

“We can discuss this more later,” he rumbled, eyes on the skyline barely visible in the night light. “For now, we need to get moving. The archer is shifting positions to get a better line of sight.”

She let out a long breath. Counted to ten. “Fine. On my count, we sprint for the edge of the alley and head east.”

Leaning against the flimsy wooden barrier, she scanned the alley and the balconies above. There was a flicker of movement and she finally caught sight of their attacker. He didn’t wear any armor or the bright silver armor that marked him as one of the Winter Court guard. In fact, she couldn’t see any Court colors or insignias that would display who he worked for. Just a dark grey uniform against the lighter stone walls of the warehouse district.

“Move,” she hissed for the second time that night and they exploded into motion, heading for the other entrance to the alleyway.

Rhone’s legs were too long for her to match his pace easily and it took them a few strides to move with any kind of grace, but by the time they reached the alley’s edge, they had some semblance of speed. Unfortunately, the street beyond wasn’t empty.

In fact, it was quite full of a number of males and females in the same dusty grey uniform of their first attacker. They skidded to a halt, trying to figure out how many attackers they were facing. Rhone straightened his spine, “Be on your way. We have no quarrel with you.”

Kali glanced around the quiet street, beginning to realize just how much trouble she was in. The archer hadn’t been aiming for her--not seriously, at least. He’d been herding them. Herding them toward this unused street at the edge of the city where the guards didn’t patrol regularly.

By the Cauldron, the riot she’d started in the tavern probably ensured that any hope of a guard coming to assist their prince was busy trying to control the wave of violence she’d triggered.

“We don’t want any trouble with you, High Lord’s son. We just want the female.” The voice came from a burly, scarred female bearing a thick cudgel at the front of the group. Her accent made a cold sweat break out on the back of Kali’s neck as she realized who’d been sent after her.

These thugs were from Hybern.

“She is under the protection of the High Court until her trial is completed,” Rhone said steadily, as if he were surrounded by an unknown number of thugs. “If you have any complaints to file against her, you can seek out one of the court clerks.”

Kali focused on reminding herself where her knives were hidden beneath her coat. Like hell she’d let this band of mercenaries drag her back to Hybern and whoever was trying to recover the spellbook. There was no question of what they wanted or what they were willing to do to get it.

Rhone’s hand tightened around hers for a moment and she was startled to realize that she wasn’t sure how long he’d been holding her hand. Of course, it probably made running together easier, now that she considered it. Still, it had been a very long time since she’d let a male touch her so casually. That massive hand slowly slipped to the hooked sword strapped to his waist in a low slung scabbard and she was alone in her skin once more.

The female mercenaries spat a wad of snot and some kind of dark liquid that made Kali want to crinkle her nose in disgust. As if that were a cue, the rest of her group began to move closer, their intent clear. “Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time,” she said casually, her eyes bright with the impending violence.

For the first time, Kali was glad for the cuffs that protected her from the dark emotions that plagued her every time she came near another fae. Fighting, for her, was always a two way assault--the physical weapons and the mental barrage of bloodlust, guilt, wrath, and even joy. Now she could focus on killing as many of these mercs as her little black heart desired.

“Can you distract them long enough for me to clear enough of them for us to make a run for it?” Rhone murmured, his stance easy even as the mercenaries began to circle them.

Kali grinned, her heart beating in a wild rhythm. “Baby, I was born to be a distraction.”

He made a soft snort of laughter, but she was already moving. The handcuffs made it impossible to use one of her hands effectively, but she’d learned to use her blades with either hand. Wrapping her hand around the smooth hilt of one of her favorite blades, she released her breath with her knife as it sailed through the air and sank deep in the skull of the male edging closer to her left.

The body hit the ground with a thud, but she was already choosing her next target and next knife. As if it were the signal to begin, the rest of the group rushed forward and Kali’s next throw only hit the shoulder of her next target. Cursing, she ducked a wild swing of a short sword and slammed her foot as hard as she could into the wielder's groin. He gave a high-pitched squawk which she returned with a vicious grin. Served him right.

There was no honor or fairness in Kali’s fighting style. Each kick and every blow had been earned in the bloody memories of her days in Amarantha’s prison. She fought like an animal and with the knowledge that any sign of mercy would be used as a weapon against her if she were so foolish. Occasionally she was forced by the length of the chain to adapt to the big warrior beside her’s attacks or movement and move around the attacks he launched with devastating strength. 

Rhone fought like the high born whelp he was. All grace and attacks straight out of the practice drills she’d witnessed in the guard’s training ring. The only difference was the icy focus and grim set of his lips as he threw a smaller female into the icy river a few feet away. She was surprised that, for all his size and muscle, he moved with enough speed and agility that felt slightly impressed. Rhône was good. 

For a prince.

Even with their skill, it was obvious that it was only a matter of time before they were overrun. The mercenaries were coming in waves, wearing them down and ensuring that they couldn’t kill any of their group before another was there to engage them in battle. 

Kali wiped away a trickle of blood edging toward her eye from a slash across her forehead that a glancing blow from a short sword had left behind. Every time she managed to push her opponent back to give herself a chance to breathe, she was forced to dodge a new attack from another side. She could see the tide of battle begin to turn against them.

“Anytime now, princeling!”

As if he’d been waiting for her signal, Rhone moved forward with a fluid grace that made her heart stutter in her chest to wrap his arms around one of the smaller mercs who’d been edging toward their flank. With a heave, he tossed the male directly into the thickest group of soldiers. Before she could fathom the strength it took to do such a feat, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a breakneck sprint down the nearest cross street.

Kali poured her strength into every once of speed her body could muster, trying to make the most of their gambit. An arrow whistled over head and she yanked Rhone to the side, moving down an alley she recognized. A wild plan began to take root and she took a quick right turn, glad that Rhone didn’t fight or question her movements.

Each time they passed another sleepy street or broke the silence of the night, Kali found herself wanting to laugh at the insanity of this night. Seeing the prince was bad enough, but how had she managed to have two groups of enemies converge on her at once. Maybe she needed to work on her people skills…

Thankfully, it looked like they were finally beginning to get enough of a lead on their pursuers that the sound of footsteps behind them dimmed. Another left had them skidding to a halt before a dead end street lined with the simple stone structures used to house the machinery used to break loose the massive ice sheets from the river harbor. An open sewer entrance steamed in plume of foul smelling smoke nearby, the only movement on the street.

Rhone cursed, “Looks like this is where we’ll make our stand.”

“Look,” she panted, tired from trying to match his gigantic stride, “I know I’m a badass and all, but we can’t keep fighting against these numbers. Either the archer will decide to stop playing nice or they’ll finally manage to surround us.” Quietly, she watched the now familiar group of mercenaries begin to move closer and leveled a meaningful glare at Rhône. “We need magic.”

“So you can escape again?”

“Right now the only escape I’m planning is one from death,” she replied calmly. It was true—she already had a plan for slipping the prince’s hold. That had been settled during the run from the alley. 

Rhone hesitated and she struggled to look innocent as he obvious considered her ability to escape him once again. Finally, he reached for the cuffs that bound them to each other. Kali gratefully pushed her hands forward, eager to get the damned things off and be free once again. 

She was so wrapped up in her eagerness to be loose that she only stared dumbly at the prince when he unlocked his cuff and slammed it shut on her other wrist. Horrified, she looked up at his smug face. “Did you really think I was going to just let you loose?” he asked, a single blonde eyebrow arching innocently.

This time he moved out of her range before she could swing at him again.

At that moment, she heard a shout from somewhere nearby and she pulled back with a snarl. “We’ll finish this later, princeling.”

He didn’t look concerned--damn him--only pushed her behind the relative shelter of a nearby alcove. Kali tugged at the manacles at her wrists, irritably. It was terrifying to be so helpless against so many mercenaries. There was no doubt that if they got their hands on her, she would be tortured until she gave up the location of Amarantha’s spellbook. Now that Rhone had cuffed and shielded her magic, she wouldn’t even be able to defend herself against them.

“You better know what you’re doing,” she growled as the temperature around them began to drop so that her words were carried on cloud of white steam. 

A slight smile was her only response.

Rhone stood, tall and confident as a male standing in line for bread or booze at one of her tavern haunts. With his attention focused on the last of the mercenaries, she could admit that she was intrigued by the icy male. It was a shame that they were on opposite sides of this conflict even if they wanted the same thing--though he may not know it yet.

This time the group of bloodied and furious mercenaries didn’t bother to tell them to surrender or even attack in pairs--they rushed forward en mass, clearly hoping to overwhelm them quickly. Instead of moving out of their range, Rhone flowed forward and threw his arm out as though he were punching some invisible foe, too early to even come close to the first of his opponents. Kali stifled a gasp as a spear of ice seemed to materialize in the air in front of him, piercing through the first two fae.

He was using that awful smelling steam from the sewers, she realized. Solidifying the traces of water from the air to use with deadly force against any who moved toward them. Rhone stepped closer to the sewer mouth, his foot only a few inches from the lip so he could access the darker waters below if need be.

It was almost embarrassing to watch how easily he dispatched them. Blood dripped onto the frozen pavement as shards of glass-clear ice sank deep into chests, ripped open necks, and turned the ground around them slick as a skating rink. 

The last of the mercenaries hesitated and she watched the scarred female make a sharp gesture to the last of her force. Kali took a step toward her, ready to tell Rhone to stop them, but it was too late. As he slammed yet another body to the earth, the others turned and disappeared into the night. The prince panted slightly, wiping away a sheen of sweat from his brow.

“You let them get away,” she said, shaking her head in disgust.

He looked at her incredulously, “I just killed half their number and you complain about the few that ran? Bloodthirsty wench.”

“I prefer to avoid letting my enemies escape.”

Rhone growled and she fought the urge to smile in delight. Teasing this male was making being trapped in the Winter Court almost bearable. Almost.

Kali slowly walked closer to where he stood, eyeing the bodies on the ground around them. “Who were they?” he demanded. “Clearly they know what you stole from the vault.”

“I have so many people chasing after me it’s hard to keep up.”

He rolled his eyes and she risked another step toward him.

“There is much more at stake here than your family’s treasures,” Kali said, choosing to be honest for once. “If you were smart, you’d forget you ever saw me tonight and go back to your warm bed.”

“And let Prythian’s most wanted thief disappear with the spellbook of our most infamous enemy? Not likely.”

She stopped only a few inches away from him, watching his blue-green eyes take in the slight smile that curved her lips. “You know,” she drawled, “it’s a shame we couldn’t be friends.”

His nostrils flared and she wondered if he was drawing in her scent. Slowly, so slowly, Kali brought her hands up to rest lightly on his chest and she watched his eyes narrow suspiciously. This close, the difference in their size was on full display, but she didn’t let it bother her. Anyone foolish enough to think that they had better odds because of her size deserves the ass kicking they got.

Rhone was smarter than that though, she was willing to bet. But she hadn’t imagined the heat in his eyes in the alleyway and he still believed that the cuffs would keep her from doing anything foolish.

Which was why it was so satisfying to duck her shoulder to slam into him with all of her remaining strength. For a moment, he tottered, arms windmilling and reaching for her as she glided back. Then he was falling. Down, through the open sewer entrance and into the murky gloom beneath.

Kali winced sympathetically at the splash below that told her he’d landed in the foul smelling waters below. A bellow of rage sounded echoed through the stone tunnels and she cackled as she leaned over the lip of the sewer to wave cheerfully at the prince, “Thanks for the help tonight!”

A hunk of a ice nearly smashed into her face but she was expecting it so she was able to dodge it easily. Chuckling to herself, she hurried away before the prince managed to find the service ladder.


	7. The Lady of Hybern

Rhone

Rhône was still furious the day after his momentary capture of the damned thief. After he’d finally pulled himself out of the Mother forsaken sewers, he was forced to slog through the thin light of dawn back to the palace, covered in the disgusting remnants of his unplanned swim. Luckily, only a few shopkeepers bustling about preparing for the day witnessed their prince in his humiliating walk home.

Juno had taken one whiff of him, flattened her ears, and slunk to the other side of the room. Even Freya had been giving him more space than usual. Not that he blamed them, his nose felt like it would be permanently damaged.

It had taken three baths to wash away the stink and filth, but it would take years for him to forget the look of disgust in the servants’ eyes when he’d entered the palace. He had no doubt that the story would be all of over Kharos by the end of the day. The thought made an icy fury curl through his body until it was a struggle to keep the room warm. Freya put her head on his knee, eyes hopeful--clearly believing that petting her would resolve some of his problems. 

He was going to strangle his little thief the next time he saw her.

Rhone settled deeper into his chair by his fireplace and considered just how he was going to bring her to her knees. He had underestimated her at their first meeting and he had every intention of learning from his mistakes. Now that he knew what she was doing to make money while the city was in lockdown, he would make sure every tavern in the city had a guard waiting for her. He would canvas the Warren himself just so he could witness her imprisonment.

A knock at the door distracted him from his plans. At his call, a servant bustled in and bowed to him, “Your brother sent me to remind you that you are needed in the gardens.”

Rhone scowled. With the battle last night, he’d forgotten that he’d promised Thrace that he would meet the girl from Hybern. Scrubbing a hand through his still-damp hair, he stood and walked over to his desk to scrawl a quick letter.

“Give this to the captain of the guard,” he said, handing over the letter with his seal gleaming in the wet ink. It would begin the process of closing the net around his wayward thief even as he was forced to pretend to consider Thrace’s latest attempt to get him to participate in politics.

After throwing on the first set of pants and tunic he found, Rhone moved as slowly as he could to the gardens, still mulling over the spellbook and its’ thief. Who were those mercenaries and what did they want with the spellbook? For that matter, how had this book become so popular after so many years in storage?

It was an alarming thought that someone in the palace must have exposed the truth of what was hiding in their store room. The thief had passed over far more expensive and easier targets in favor of fishing out the book in one of the forgotten trunks at the back of the room. Rhone’s pace slowed as he considered this. 

Who else knew that the Winter Court was hiding a relic of Amarantha? 

His train of thought was halted by his arrival into the winter ‘gardens’ that ringed the palace. Calling it a garden was much more optimistic than the environment of the Winter Court could provide. Instead, the city’s best artists shaped ice into masterpieces that shone like diamonds each time the sun peeked out from behind the grey clouds. Juno and Freya picked up their pace to prowl around the bushes and trees for any squirrels tempted to venture out of their nests.

When he was a child, his mother had taken him to the gardens to practice his magic and to learn the control necessary to be a capable warrior. They’d spent hours attempting to recreate the more complicated sculptures or laughing until they were breathless after an impromptu snowball fight. He could still remember the pride and delight in Vivianne’s eyes the day he’d presented her with a perfect crystallized rose--its’ petals and leaves precise, down to the miniature veins that ghosted through each layer.

A light, musical laugh floated through the air from the edges of the ice maze and Rhone glanced up in time to see his brother approach with what must be the Hybernese lady on his arm. Light burst like captured stars in the ice around her and, despite his desire to stay out of Thrace’s power games, he had to admit she was beautiful.

Long red hair hung like a curling banner around her face and trailed lovingly down her back in perfect contrast to the green of her dress. Her jade colored dress curled around each curve of her body like a lover’s touch and contrasted prettily with the ermine trimmed cloak that trailed along behind her. The skin that peeked out from her sleeves and the low neckline of her gown was sun touched and his eyes traced the scattering of freckles that trailed across her cheeks before being washed away in the perfect porcelain of her skin. Bright green eyes suddenly met his and Rhone felt his breath catch at the desire that pulsed through his mind like liquid heat.

Even for a fae, the female was beautiful. Each feature was lovingly crafted by the Mother herself and he found himself walking forward to meet her, eagerness replacing the dread he felt earlier. She smiled prettily and he felt that strange desire curl through him again, washing away the memory of suspicion and fury that had been with him since he’d crawled out of the sewers. Freya leaned against his leg nervously but he shook her off with a quick gesture. 

Thrace smiled smugly at him, “Rhone, may I introduce the beautiful Delorea?”

“A pleasure,” he replied, bowing gracefully as she blushed prettily. Juno grumbled irritably nearby, ears flat as she eyed the stranger. 

“Oh, stop it, Thrace,” Delorea said with another charming laugh. “You know how I feel about empty flattery and court procedure.”

“Ah, but it isn’t flattery, my dear. You are beautiful.”

“And here I thought you wanted me to fall in love with your brother,” she replied with a wink and Rhone found himself smiling at her.

“Thrace doesn’t know how to stop acting like a politician anymore,” he said, ignoring Thrace’s scowl. “How did he manage to convince you to come to our court anyway? Most foreigners don’t enjoy our cold weather.”

Delorea smiled and he felt himself fascinated by the sensation of matching happiness that flushed through him at the sight. “I’ve always enjoyed the cold. My homeland also has brisk winters--” she ran her hand lightly over an ice sculpture of a flowering tree, “--and your Court is beautiful.”

Thrace walked beside them, looking annoyed at how little attention Delorea was giving him. Served him right, Rhone thought, after forcing him into this meeting. They continued down the main path to walk along the rows of frozen trees intermixed with sweet smelling evergreens. The sun shone down in a rare display of brilliant light and warmth, making the world around them sparkle. He found himself wondering if his Summer born thief was enjoying the rare sunny day.

There was a momentary pause that made him realize he must have missed a question of some sort. Delorea gave him a conspiratorial wink, “I, too, am at a loss for words when I think of my favorite music.”

“The music I enjoy is not for polite company.” Especially when it’s sung by a beautiful criminal.

She laughed as if he’d told a joke. Rhone’s happy mood dimmed slightly at the insincere sound and he frowned. This was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. He needed to be setting his trap, not wandering around the gardens with Thrace’s latest political interest. But then Delorea’s sparkling green eyes narrowed on him and he was awash in the sensations of happiness and contentment.

“Your wolves are so beautiful,” Delorea said, kneeling with her hand offered to Freya. “How long have you had them?”

Freya sniffed her extended fingers, sneezed, and walked to where her sister was barely restraining a growl. Clearly his girls weren’t fond of the lady of Hybern. Rhône cleated his throat, “Since they were pups.”

“He refuses to part with them,” Thrace said with a distinctly disapproving look to the large animals. 

Before Rhône could respond, Delorea was frowning at Thrace, “And why would he? They’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Rhône replied with a slight bow of his head. “I intend to keep them around as long as they want to stay—no matter how much Thrace complains.”

Her hand tightened around his arm and Rhone noted distantly how her nails were long enough to pass as claws. “Thrace has told me so much about you!” she said lightly, still ignoring his brother that trailed behind them like a gloomy shadow.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, he said you work as a mercenary?” Delorea continued as though Rhone had responded. “I think it’s so amazing that your magic is so unique.”

Suddenly he felt cold and he stopped walking to stare at her. “What do you mean?” he asked softly, tension in every line of his body.

“Thrace said that you’re an amplifier on top of being a magic user,” Delorea replied, the beginnings of a frown on her beautiful face. “Was I not supposed to know that?”

 

Damn, Thrace. Rhone turned to narrow his eyes at his brother as he answered the female, “It is not something I like to advertise or something my brother has any right to discuss outside of our court.”

Thrace growled at him, his temper spiking, “Anyone paying attention could figure out your precious secrets.”

“Why would they bother when you’ll tell them first?”

“Maybe if you were being hunted you’d start participating in protecting our family’s Court!”

Only a soft hand on his arm kept him from swinging at Thrace to look down at the foreign female. Delorea’s cheerful smile had faded completely and he felt a twinge of guilt stir in him. She moved closer to him, her face earnest. “Oh, Rhone, I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” she said, close enough now that the curve of her breast pressed against his arm, “I swear I won’t tell anyone else.”

Clenching his jaw, Rhone continued forward, feeling off balance and uncomfortable with the female beside him. The knowledge of what his powers could do was not something he wanted spread around Kharos. Amplifiers were rare and incredibly useful to anyone looking to boost their magic on the battlefield or turn the tide of a power struggle at court. He could still remember the fear in his mother’s eyes when his powers began to manifest. How careful she was with his training.

After a time, Delorea began to talk again and he felt the tightness in his gut beginning to ease with each step. As if her very presence leached away his fear and anger at his brother.

By the time they reached the end of the walking path, Rhone couldn’t remember why he’d been so uninterested in meeting the lady of Hybern and agreed to meet with her once again.


	8. Kali and the King of the Underworld

Morning dawned, bright and disgustingly cheerful despite the activities of the night before. Kali groaned as she slowly sat up, her body aching all over from the fight last night. It’d taken her the better part of an hour to pull apart the magical cuffs Rhone had attached to her wrists without damaging them. She had plans for those cuffs and her revenge.

By the time she’d finally crawled into the tiny alcove beside one of the massive furnace chimney of a blacksmith’s shop, she was exhausted. Thankfully the bricks were warm enough to keep her alive overnight, even if she felt half-frozen by morning. If the damned prince hadn’t practically shut down the city to find her, she could have been comfortably sleeping in one of the many inns or taverns of Kharos. Now, she couldn’t even hide out in the Warrens and risk someone turning her in for the bounty on her head.

Why did anyone choose to live in this frozen wasteland? She thought irritably as she dusted a light layer of snow off her shoulders and cloak. Especially when the Summer Court was so close.

She was surprised to see the sun had made a rare appearance in the grey skies above the Winter Court and she tilted her head up to soak up as much of the warmth as she could. Stretching, Kali glanced down at the busy streets of the marketplace and frowned. 

It was a habit to count the number of guards within eyesight anytime she travelled, but this was beginning to get excessive. There were at least ten guards patrolling the streets, clearly looking for something--or someone. That hunch was confirmed as soon as one of the silver uniformed males stopped a pretty blonde girl with the dark skin that marked her as a descendent of the Summer Court and began to question her. 

She was going to have to do something about her nosy little princeling and his remarkable ability to get in her way.

Maybe she could find a way to get rid of him for a time or at least get him off her tail until she was able to leave Kharos. That would require some reconnaissance--which was impossible with the number of soldiers out combing the streets for her at the moment. Mentally, she counted how much coin she had left and sighed mournfully. It looked like she’d be spending the rest of this trip sleeping outside so she could afford another trip to the information brokers of the Warren. This spellbook was becoming nearly as destructive and problematic as its former owner.

Kali looked down at the street again thoughtfully as the foul smelling smoke from the smithy drifted over her on the shifting winds. The dark smoke gave her an idea. Carefully, she scaled the shingled roof and began to scrape off the accumulated build up of soot and charcoal at the edge of the chimney. Then she ran the crumbly mixture carefully through the bright silver of her hair until it was as dark as the forge she stood next to. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would be enough to get her to the Warrens.

Within moments, Kali was making her way through the busy streets and past the guards still canvassing the area with the casual confidence of any pickpocket. Guards were always looking for people who looked out of place--those that were too innocent looking or moved a little too quickly past them. It was the first thing she’d learned after she’d escaped from Under the Mountain, though not before she’d nearly been thrown into a Dawn Court prison.

The Warren, much like its name implied, had a number of useful entrances and exits that allowed for enough anonymity that even law abiding citizens enjoyed a visit now and then. They would wander through the darkened bars, sampling their wares and the lively nightlife before scuttling home to sleep safe in their beds. Any missing purse or jewel was seen as the price they paid for such an adventure.

Kali was glad to see that the activities in the underground city were still going strong even as the bright light of day slowed the traffic in bars above ground. It was always easier to blend in with a crowd. She wove through the drunk and the stupid towards the gambling den that took up most of the eastern wall. It was emblazoned with a pale crown made of silvery ice with a clever-eyed pine marten curled around it. There was no name beneath the emblem--if you had to ask what kind of establishment it was, you had no business there.

Inside was delightfully chaotic--all bright lights and roaring flames--and Kali wished she were here for pleasure instead of business. Gambling tables were scattered around the room to allow for customers to move around as they wished. Deft looking waiters and dealers in smart green uniforms laughed and cajoled gamblers into another round, another drink. She steered clear of the dead-eyed females and males who worked their own games with the lonely and victorious members of the crowd.

She made her way to the counter and tapped a silver coin against the scarred wood until the bartender moved closer. “I need information,” she said shortly, letting the coin appear and disappear in her clever fingers.

“Got orders to send you to Stryker,” the male grunted and Kali frowned.

“I already gave notice to Stryker when I came into town. Why does he want to see me?”

The barkeeper grunted again and shrugged. He must have some troll in his bloodline.

“I’ll see him later. Right now I need--”

“You go now.”

Kali scowled and started to stand when she saw two fae in green uniforms converge on her. How was it possible that she’d managed to make this many enemies in one city in just three days? “Fine,” she bit out and allowed them to escort her into the back room.

If the main area of the gambling hall was flashy, this was a painfully austere. It was all cool grey stone and simple, comfortable furnishings, all centered around a large, intricately carved table and chairs. As she walked closer, she could make out delicate leaves and branches of the evergreen and ash trees that lined the gardens of the Winter Palace while bears and pine martens hunted beneath their branches. At the head of that table, a lanky male slouched languidly across a massive wooden chair carved in the same style as the table.

His eyes--a bright bottle green--met hers as soon as she stepped through the door and he didn’t bother to hide his assessing stare as she moved closer. Where Rhone was all chiseled muscles honed from a lifetime of work in the training rings of the palace, Stryker’s body had the same whip thin musculature of thieves and rogues. The slum rats and cheats who never knew where their next meal would come from or their next target may stroll by. A hint of a grin tugged at the edges of his full lips, a thin white scar edging through the upper lip like a dimple. Dark, shaggy hair the color of the rich earth of the farmlands in the Day Court curled around his ears making him appear as if he’d just rolled out of bed to lounge around this mockery of a throne room.

In a word, he looked like trouble.

Kali approached Stryker as confidently as she dared and stopped a comfortable distance away from his perch, letting his lackeys return to their stations in the gambling den before she addressed him. “To what do I owe this honor?”

That smirk turned wicked. “So, Jessa the tavern singer,” his tone was mocking--daring her with the name and title she’d given when she entered the city to admit that it was just a cover, “you’ve been making friends in high places and attracting all kinds of attention.”

She shrugged, not willing to give him any information he didn’t already have. Stryker’s kingdom was built on a foundation of secrets and ill-gotten information gleaned from a network of invisible spies. It was the only reason the Warrens were allowed to continue under the nose of Kallias--even a High Lord had need of information on occasion. There was no reason for her to make his job easier for him.

“What did you do to cause the riot last night?” he tried again, switching subjects in an attempt to get her off balance.

“Taverns are not known for being a safe environment. Why would you think I had something to do with it?”

“Because the fighting didn’t start until you decided to run out the back door.”

Kali gave him a smirk. “Perhaps they missed my singing,” she said, a little too innocently.

“And the brawl that took place near the shipping district?”

“A simple misunderstanding.”

Stryker threw back his head and laughed, the sound ricocheting around the room until she found her lips relaxing into a genuine smile. “Why did you come here then, Jessa? Aside from a desire to tease me with half truths.”

She shifted then, feeling the beginnings of nerves spreading through her gut. “I want information,” she replied simply.

“About?”

Now she hesitated, wondering if her query would give away everything. The thought of the guards searching for her this morning gave her enough courage to tell the truth. “Tell me about the Kallias’ son.”

Stryker looked surprised. “Thrace?”  
“Rhone.”

He nodded thoughtfully, piecing together the story he’d been told and her interest in the prince. “Why do you want to know about him?” he finally asked.

“He’s...interested in me. I want to know what kind of male he is.” That much was true--although his interest had more to do with law and order than a desire for her company.

“Is that so?” he said slowly and Kali had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her. “Well, of the three princes, he’s definitely the most popular with the people of Kharos. Mostly because he prefers the city to the palace.” Stryker popped a grape into his mouth and considered her for a moment as he chewed, “He works as a mercenary for one of the free companies in Kharos.”

“Which one? Does he work alone?”

He slowed his chewing, his friendly demeanor washing away like water over a flat stone. Kali found herself reaching for her abilities to feel out the emotion behind that mask. Fury. It ripped over her senses like heat from a banked fire and it made her nervous. Why was the king of the underworld so protective of the princeling?

“Listen to me, thief,” he growled, watching her respond to his acknowledgment of her true identity, “I will not shelter or assist you if you have any intentions of harming the High Lord’s family here. If I even get a whiff of an assassination attempt, I’ll string you up for the guards myself.”

The thought of sinking her knife in Rhone’s gut made something in her flinch. Even if he made her want to strangle him, killing him felt like cheating in a game they had only just begun to play. 

“I’m a thief, not an assassin.”

“So what do you intend to do with him?”

Tie him up and throw him on a ship to the Mortal Lands? Even she wasn’t sure how she could solve the puzzle that was Rhone Penhallow’s continued dedication to bringing her to justice. He was annoyingly persistent and apparently more than willing to use all of his resources to set his traps. Even the supposed king of the Warrens was unusually defensive of his High Lord’s middle son. 

A wicked little thought occurred to her then and she smiled, “If he is a mercenary, does that mean he works under contract?”

Styker’s dark brow arched in silent question, but he nodded, “His company filters requests and accepts jobs on his behalf.”

Now she was really grinning, but Kali chose her words carefully. “He may be surprised to find our goals are more similar than he thinks. If I could speak to him without him trying to drag me off to the nearest guards, maybe we could work together--who knows?”

Stryker laughed again, green eyes dancing as he considered her. The spymaster stood, as if he was too excited to remain standing, and paced around his makeshift throne, stroking the stubble of his chin. “Alright,” he said thoughtfully then repeated it a little louder, “alright, thief. I’ll help you arrange your meeting with Rhone so long as you do no harm to him or allow harm to come to him.”

It rankled her to have to promise to protect a male who was dead set to see her in chains, but she nodded, putting out her hand for him to shake. “Deal.”


	9. Bedroom Talk

Hello lovely readers! Thank you for continuing to read my first original character concept in the Court of Thorns and Roses world. I promise you'll see some familiar faces soon (*cough* Rhysand *cough*). In the meantime, let me know what you think in the reviews!

Ps. As some parts of this story were cowritten, I have a variation of this scene written from Rhone's perspective that I may release as a bonus chapter if anyone is interested.

 

 

Slipping into the Winter Palace was becoming a bit of a hobby for her. The route she’d used to enter the grounds the first time was now under constant surveillance so she choose to walk through the front door on the arm of a drunken courtier on his way back from visiting the ladies downtown. The guards had barely looked twice at her as they’d stumbled, laughing up the front steps. 

 

After all, they were looking for a thief skulking around the edges of the marketplace--not a flushed looking female giggling up the front steps of the palace.

 

It didn’t hurt that Kali had bought a form fitting white gown in the Winter Court style for the occasion. She told herself that it was to prevent one of the guards or the various princelings to discover their thief walked in their midst, but she could admit she wanted to throw Rhone off balance if she could. Her white hair was freed from her braid and fell in soft waves around her face and down the low back of the gown. The sleeves of the dress fell in flowing sleeve that hung to the ground and hid the small knives she’d strapped to her forearms while the dress itself clung to every curve she could claim. She let her gait shift to the sensual sway that she’d learned from the courtiers Under the Mountain and could feel the guards’ eyes linger as she walked away.

 

It was almost too easy to dump her inebriated new friend into one of the decorative couches in the main room with an affectionate pat on his cheek. 

 

Kali made her way carefully up the maze of passageways to the royal wing of the palace as quickly as she could. Twice she’d nearly run face first into the soldiers patrolling each level and had to backtrack to another corridor before looping around again. Clearly they had stepped up their security since her last visit.

 

She smiled in triumph when she finally spied the intricately carved wooden doors that led to the princeling’s rooms. Using the covers hanging helpfully beneath each of the torches that lined the hallway, she extinguished the lights nearest the room so they wouldn’t wake the prince when she slipped inside. That done, she pulled her picks from her clutch and silently unlocked the doors to step into the cool dark of his chambers. 

 

Idly, she pulled the thick slab of meat she’d brought with her from a street vendor outside out of her purse and whistled softly. Two massive white wolves leapt up from where they were sleeping on the floor beside the massive bed and growled menacingly at her.

 

Smiling cheerfully, Kali waved the meat in front of her and whispered, “Hello, my beauties. I’ve brought a snack as an apology for what’s about to happen.”

 

The larger of the two wolves lunged for her with a snap of her massive jaws and Kali let them race forward in snarling white streaks without bothering to duck back into the hall. At the last moment, Kali ducked low beneath their pounce and let them sail over her head into the hallway outside, slamming against the wall on the other side with a dull thud. Before they could spin around and come for her again, she tossed the meat outside and shut the door with a soft click. She could hear their worried whines from outside the door, but luckily it was thick enough to muffle most of the sound.

 

Brushing the last of the spices left from the meat off on the silky fabric of her dress, she slinked to the sleeping form of the prince. 

 

Rhone, she reminded herself, the middle child of Kallias and just the type of male that could help her further her schemes.

 

He was a pretty princeling, she thought with a clinical gaze. It was nice to have a moment to view him without the curl of disdain that usually marred his features when he saw her. She could see the top of a muscular chest marked with a few pale scars from where he lay sprawled across the covers. His glorious golden hair was mussed with sleep and she felt her fingers itch to see if it was as soft as it looked. With his face relaxed and the light from the fire warming his room playing over the sharp panes of his face, she could almost forget he’d tried to imprison her the night before.

 

Almost.

 

With a wicked smile, Kali pulled the cuffs she’d recovered from their last encounter and carefully snapped the first around the wrist of the hand that was stretched out over the covers. He stirred and she held her breath patiently until his face relaxed into sleep once again. She was forced to crawl onto the bed beside him to reach the other wrist, but it was worth it to see the look in his eyes when the final cuff snicked shut.

 

The prince’s blue eyes went wide with shock as he felt the spelled cuffs block his magic before locking on her with a snarl of rage. He started to lunge for her, but she moved out of his range quickly enjoying the moment when the cuffs prevented him from reaching her. Rhone looked up to where the cuffs were twisted around one of the wooden posts of his bed, then back at her with narrowed eyes.

 

Kali smiled sweetly at him, “Evening, princeling.”

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

The fury in his voice made her smile widen. “Our last conversation was...interrupted and I found I just couldn’t get you out of my mind,” she purred, running a finger down his bare chest.

 

Rhone sat up with enough force that she upped her appreciation of the warrior’s muscles that lined his lean form. Those muscles bulged as he struggled to rip the cuffs free even as he realized where she’d gotten them from.

 

Icy blue eyes looked at her with violence simmering in their depths as he looked around and realized his wolves weren’t in the room. “Where are Freja and Juno?” he bit out. “If you’ve hurt them…”

 

Kali made a dismissive gesture, making herself comfortable by leaning one shoulder against the headboard. “I’m not a monster, your highness. I didn’t hurt your little pets-” she had to force herself not to growl the last word, “-they’re outside enjoying the treat I brought them.”

 

He eyed the door with relief and she felt her respect for him go up a tiny bit. Only a tiny bit though. When his gaze returned to her he was back to behaving as a High Lord’s son, “What do you want?”

 

She couldn’t reason why his cool tone rankled her so much so she ignored the sensation. “Only to talk, prince. I plan on releasing you before the night is over, unless,” she added with a hint of wickedness, “you beg me to stay.”

 

Rhone’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he gave her a look that took in her form fitting dress and the way she was crouched beside him on his bed. Suddenly she was aware of his bare chest and the way the sheets had slid down around his hips, showing just enough skin that she found herself wondering if the prince slept in the nude. 

 

And how much she was willing to risk to find out.

 

To her surprise, she felt a wave of heat rush over her body and into her cheeks. His eyes settled on her mouth as he purred, “If you want me so badly, let me out of these cuffs and I’ll show you what it means to beg.”

 

Kali blinked in surprise, her tongue coming out to wet suddenly dry lips. That was...unexpected. To her shame, she looked away and cleared her throat feeling off balanced by this hidden side to the stoic prince, “We need to discuss the spellbook.”

 

There was a pause as he considered the change of subject. Coward, she told herself. Don’t let him throw you off balance.

 

“If you think you can bargain your way out of being punished, you’re even more foolish than I thought you were,” his voice was back to the icy cool tone that made her want to irritate him for the fun of it--or too bring back the heat she’d just witnessed.

 

“Being punished would required actually being caught, princeling. Something you and your soldiers have yet to manage,” she responded.

 

He growled at her and she had to bit her lip to keep from laughing or leaning closer to him as she continued, “The spellbook contains magic that cannot fall into the wrong hands. I am not the first thief to make an attempt for it.”

 

Rhone frowned as though he hadn’t heard of any other attempted robberies on the palace treasury. That was an interesting piece of information, she thought. Maybe Kallias was hiding the weaknesses in their defenses. She hoped that didn’t imply that the frosty High Lord that was so loved by his people was involved in the scheme to use the spellbook.

 

The thought of what that spell could do was enough to wipe all traces of humor away from her. Curling her knees to her chest, Kali rested her chin on them and looked into the fire as memories threatened to overwhelm her.

 

Why must you always fight me so?

 

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to continue, “I took the book to ensure that it would remain safe.”

 

Rhone made a rude sound, “You expect me to believe you stole the book to keep other thieves from stealing it?”

 

“Clearly your guards weren’t enough to prevent thieves from accessing even your most precious family heirlooms,” she drawled.

 

He was silent for a long moment, the metal on the chains rustling as he sat beside her. “So what do you want with me?” he asked finally.

 

Kali nibbled on her bottom lip, suddenly afraid that telling him was the worst mistake she could ever make. That trusting another person had only led to pain and misery up to this point.

 

But she couldn’t face this alone. She needed an ally.

 

Finally, she turned to watch the stoic face of the prince melt away to shock as she said, “I’m told you’re one of the best hired soldiers money can buy.”

 

“As if you could afford me even if I accepted your offer,” he snorted derisively and Kali smothered a laugh as she leaned in closer to him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

 

“Funny you should say that,” she drawled, “because your captain seems to think I’ve contracted your services.”

 

Rhone’s eyes blazed at her, then he cursed, “Why would you want me to help you even if I did agree to the contract?”

 

“You saw the mercenaries in the marketplace,” Kali said. “You’re smart enough to figure out why they were there and it wasn’t to turn me in to the proper authorities. “

 

“I should just turn you in myself,” he said with a pointed glare at the cuffs still on his wrists, keeping that glorious power contained. 

 

“You could try,” she said with a smirk, “but you would never be able to recover the spellbook.”

 

The prince’s eyes trailed over the small clutch at her side with a frown and Kali chuckled, “I’m not foolish enough to bring it with me. It’s in a safe location that only I know.”

 

She could tell he was still unconvinced and knew that he wouldn’t accept any kind of bargain without more proof that there was something going on. His gaze would occasionally look to the door and Kali knew he was only biding his time until one of the guards saw the two wolves trying to eat their way into the room. Desperately she leaned forward, drawing his attention back to her and she resisted the urge to smirk when his gaze dropped briefly down to her chest before dragging back up to her face.

 

“Look, I can prove that someone is trying to find and use the spellbook,” she said.

 

One elegant pale eyebrow went up and Rhone looked vaguely interested, “Oh?”

 

“Swear that you’ll give me one day to prove it. If I can’t convince you in that time, then…” she racked her brain for something he would want, “I’ll consider our contract to be void.”

 

“I want more than just the contract voided.”

 

Kali grit her teeth, “Fine. I’ll even surrender to the palace guards.”

 

Even the thought of being locked away in a prison cell was enough to make a cold sweat break out along her back but she refused to let that panic show on her face as she waited for his response. It wasn’t as if she was promising to stay in their custody, she reminded herself.

 

Icy eyes peered through the dim light of the bedroom at her as though the prince was attempting to read her mind for any plots to double cross him. “And I’ll have to rely on your word that you’ll surrender after a day peacefully?” he said slowly, sarcastic enough that she gave him a challenging grin.

 

“Worried I’ll embarrass you again, princeling?”

 

A delicious little muscle feathered on his cheek as he clenched his jaw and Kali knew she’d won her twenty four hours to prove her case.

 

“Fine,” he bit out, “but the deal is off if I even think you’re going to break your word.”

 

Kali smiled sadly and shook her head with a mocking light in her eyes, “Such a low opinion you have of me.”

 

“And,” Rhone continued with a pointed glare, “I want these cuffs off. Now.”

 

Tension built in her as she slowly nodded and reached for the cuffs, “Of course.”

 

Her fingers brushed his warm skin as she quickly unlocked the cuffs, not wanting to touch him more than she needed. As soon as the metal was clear of his skin, the prince moved in a blur of pale skin and icy power. Kali tried to scramble out of his reach again, but the long gown hampered her movements and within a fraction of a second she was pressed firmly against the cool mattress and the heat of Rhone’s body looming over her.

 

She snarled and bucked, panic beating at her as she realized how vulnerable the position made her and how very not clothed the male was, but he ignored it. Finally she lay still and panting slightly, her eyes spitting fire and promises of violence at his smug face. 

 

“Now that I have your attention,” Rhone purred, his eyes traveling down her captive form with no attempt to hide his interest, “understand that your freedom up to this point has only continued due to luck. I have no intention of letting you out of my sight.”

 

Briefly, Kali considered biting a chunk out of his arm, but decided that they would get no where if this turned into an all-out brawl. “Fine,” she bit out, fury laced through the word.

 

He smiled slowly and it was enough to make her body clench in response--suddenly aware of how small she was compared to him. The even planes of his face were startlingly beautiful in the firelight and Kali suddenly wished she was in his bed for an entirely different reason. His smile faded as if he sensed the shift in the room as she stared up at him. His breath stirred the soft white hair that fell around her face as he started to lean closer, his gaze falling to her lips.

 

Some sense of self preservation gave her the strength to look away and clear her throat, “We need to get moving.”

 

The slightly predatory gleam in Rhone’s eyes told her he knew a retreat when he saw one but he didn’t comment. Rolling off of her, he padded across the room to his dresser without any indication of shame at his naked form. She pretended to not watch the way the firelight ran over his muscles as though he were a son of fire instead of ice.

 

Kali ran a shaky hand through her hair and cursed herself for being all kinds of a fool. There was no way in hell that she could be attracted to one of Kallias’ sons--especially not the one who was currently ruining all of her plans. Her eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, flexing as he tugged on a pair of worn leather pants and a tunic.

 

Definitely not.


	10. First Body

The freezing winds outside the palace was enough to cool any lingering heat between them and Kali scowled at the snow. Hell was definitely not hot, she decided during her visit, it was full of freezing ice and winds. Glancing at Rhone--who looked completely unmoved by the weather, the bastard--she tucked her hands deeper in the thin sleeves of her gown.

A growl behind her told Kali the two white beasts were still furious that she’d tricked them. When they’d opened the doors of the prince’s bedroom, it had only been a quick whistle from Rhone that’d saved her from being ripped apart. Once he’d called them off, the smaller of the two had ambled over to smell her fingers hopefully for another snack, but returned to her sister’s side when she saw Kali was empty handed. Rhone had only shook his head and headed for the exit.

Hot breath brushed against her skin as the larger of the two edged closer to her with its’ teeth bared. Kali narrowed her eyes at it and flashed her own teeth, eyeing the thick collars at their neck and wondering how he’d trained them to get them to act like his personal dogs.

“Did we have to bring your pets?” she asked bitterly.

You were always my favorite little pet, said the cruel voice in her memories.

She shoved the awful memory away and focused on the irritation she felt towards the prince. Rhone paced through the streets as though he expected everyone to leap up and serve him--which they probably would if he ordered it. Kali wondered if he noticed the way people looked at them as they moved deeper into the maze of streets that marked the inner city.

Rhone gave her an annoyed stare, “They aren’t my pets and yes, we do.”

Kali resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him as his attention returned to the road ahead of them but she forced herself to focus. She led them down the main street away from the palace, past the gleaming shops that catered to wealthy citizens, and into the poorer section of the city. The houses became darker, the cheerful colors long faded anda dulled by seasons of snow and wind. Beneath her feet, she could feel the paving stones become uneven--no one would bother to apply the cosmetic changes that made the neighborhoods behind them so beautiful.

They were coming up on the area where she’d found the first body and stashed it out of sight. A bitterly cold wind swept down the narrow space as she retraced her steps and Kali shivered miserably. Rhone looked completely untouched by the cold weather, but she supposed that was to be suspected from Kallias’ son.

“What am I supposed to call you?”

The question was so unexpected that she blinked at him for a moment, “What?”

Rhône looked annoyed at her—a favorite expression of his when it came to her—and said, “I can’t just walk around calling you ‘thief’ all the time, so what’s your name?”

Kali considered the tightness of his shoulders and shrugged her own, “Would that make it easier to hate me?”

His eyes flicked to her before darting away, “I don’t hate you. I just don’t respect what you do for a living.”

She was saved from her response when they finally arrived in the forgotten alley that she’d memorized the day before. 

The only benefit to the temperature was that the body was now frozen and stiff beneath the thin layering of refuse she’d placed over it. Kali watched the surprise and suspicion move over Rhone’s face as she cleared away the covering to reveal the twisted and desiccated corpse.

His nostrils flared, “What is this?” There was no trace of the male who’d teased and challenged her a few minutes before.

“I found him like this yesterday,” she said quietly, a deep sympathy in her eyes. “He’s the third body I’ve heard or seen murdered like this since I arrived in Kharos.”

She didn’t add that she’d stumbled upon the dump site when she was busy hunting for a safe place to sleep that night. Or that the sight of the mangled body had thrown her into such a clawing panic that she’d vomited and ran. It had taken hours to work up the nerve to return, to attempt to give the unknown male some kind of justice.

Rhone crouched beside the body, eyeing the withered skin, “How does a long dead murder victim relate to the spellbook?”

“He wasn’t dead when I found him.” Blue-green eyes snapped up to her in surprise, but she kept her eyes on the twisted corpse, “He was too far gone to save, but I was here when he stopped breathing.”

Kali had sat like a silent sentinel beside the gasping male as his life flickered and struggled desperately to continue against the . All she could do was try to send him soothing emotions of peace and attempt to dull the pain with her gift. They sank into his mind like the warm sun on a summer day and the cool lapping of water on a lakeshore, washing away his pain and fear. His eyes had focused on some point she couldn’t see for a moment before the tension went out of his tortured body.

“What kind of magic could do this?”

A throb of old horrors thrummed in her veins as she said softly, “I’ve seen it used before.” Clenching her jaw she forced herself to continue even when her voice threatened to crack, “Under the Mountain.”

Rhone looked at her sharply, but she continued before he could ask the question that was in his eyes, “Someone is attempting to use Amarantha’s magic without the complete spellbook.”

“How do you know it’s Amarantha’s spell?”

She ignored him, not wanting to discuss that part of her past. Instead, she crouched beside the body and pointed to the edge of an old wound that disappeared beneath the tattered remains of his shirt. Gently, she tugged it away to expose the intricate symbol carved into the withered flesh.

“It’s meant to drain magic from the victim into the caster,” Kali said grimly, “Though it doesn’t have to kill them necessarily...a controlled caster could pull magic in pieces indefinitely.” Her eyes were full of screams as she looked back at him, “The raw magic can be used to maintain spells without draining their reserves. It’s how the High Lords’ magic was taken Under the Mountain.”

“How do you know about all this?”

“Why do you think I wanted your help hunting down the magic user?” she asked intently, letting the darkness of her nightmares show in her grey eyes. “Someone is trying to gather magic. This magic would allow them to cast more powerful curses or spell than any one user has ever been able to do. We both know the potential damage it could do to Prythian.”

“Why do you care what happens to the High Lords’ and their courts?”

Kali tried not to be insulted by the surprise in his voice. “Because I live in them obviously,” she said dryly, “and because I have no interest in being trapped in another tyrant’s kingdom.”

Rhone looked like he still had a million questions for her, but he only sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Those sea colored eyes remained focused on the tortured body at their feet. “What do you plan to do next?” he finally asked.

“Well if I can get a moment to breathe without soldiers and overgrown princelings hunting me down-” she replied pointedly and he rolled his eyes, “-I can start searching for information on the victims to see if there’s a connection between them and attempt to find out who’s interested in the book.”

Carefully, Kali leaned down and covered the body once more, promising herself that she would see him buried soon. Rhone watched her with an unreadable expression before helping return the body to its original hiding place. 

“Show me the other bodies,” he said softly.

Kali nodded and turned back to the maze of streets and buildings. It was going to be a long night.

There was a soft scuff of leather against stone and they turned to find the end of the remote alleyway slowly filling with the same mercenaries in dark leathers. Kali counted twelve men before Rhone stepped forward, his hand on his sword.

“Leave,” he said with a voice barely above a growl. As if seconding the statement, Juno and Freja moved to stand at either side of him, hackles raised and teeth bared.

A scarred man stepped forward with a scoff, “Leave the thief and go on your way, High Lord’s son. We don’t want anything to do with you.”

Kali bristled as the man’s eyes trailed over her close fitting dress, lingering in certain areas as he ran his tongue over his teeth. A blast of ice shot from the prince, halting with a sharp spear only a millimeter from the mercenary’s chest. She gawked at the amount of control Rhone displayed with a casual violence.

“This is your only warning,” he snarled, “keep your eyes where they belong and get the hell out of here.”

Cursing viciously, the other male waited until that icy threat slowly lowered to the ground to snap at the men behind him, “Get ‘em boys.”

En masse the mercenaries rushed forward and Kali could almost be impressed with their bravery as they moved closer to her furious prince. Rhone looked as though he was going to take them all on by himself despite the overwhelming odds. Doing a quick calculation in her head, Kali decided discretion was the better part of valor even if she had Rhone and his wolves on her side.

Grabbing the prince’s hand, she yanked him after her as she took off down the alley, leaping over the desiccated corpse and rushing into the night. Rhone cursed but soon was racing alongside her. She kept her hand tight around his as she moved towards the closest entrance to the Warren. She could lose them there.

With a wild grin, she took a sharp turn and looked over her shoulder at the prince, “I’ll try not to lose you this time!”

He gave her a wolfish smile of his own but before he could respond, Kali skidded to a stop as a two familiar looking males turned the corner in front of them. It looked like the mercenaries had learned from her last escape to keep her from reaching the underground. Rhone began to reach for his sword but Kali was already racing forward again, palming her blades as she moved.

Since she was so small, most of her opponents believed that she would be hesitant and safe. It was usually one of the last things they thought before she smashed into them with the same subtlety of a battering ram. Kali ducked under the first soldier’s shabby attempt at a block with his short sword and tilted her shoulder so she slammed into his diaphragm. The momentum had her moving out of range of the second mercenary so she could focus on them one at a time. His air whooshed out in a strangled yelp as she slid her knife into the exposed opening under his arm and into his heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Without bothering to check, Kali caught the wrist of the next guard and used his momentum to pull him off balance and into the brick wall behind her. Cursing, the male tried to turn and lunge for her again but she leapt onto his back and locked her arms around his neck. He panicked and tried to shake her off but Kali only tightened her hold until she heard a wet sounding crack and the male went limp.

Gracefully, she let him fall and landed lightly behind him. Kali quickly retrieved her knives and wiped them clean on the dead male’s cloak before turning back to Rhone, “We need to keep moving.”

She looked up to find Rhone watching her with a peculiar expression, his sword laying forgotten in his hand. Kali got the feeling he wasn’t used to allowing others to fight without him but he only nodded and they began running again. Around them, she could hear the occasional hint of the disturbances the mercenaries were causing as they moved through the marketplace a street over hunting for them.

Reaching for the prince’s hand again, Kali ducked behind the leaning and broken door of an abandoned building. She ignored the nervous energy that came with walking into the inky darkness within the house by relying on the same muscle memory that guided her to the entrance of the outer levels of the Warrens. Sliding a piece of flooring marked with a subtle symbol, Kali exposed a small hole with a ladder that led to the softly lit tunnels.

She dropped down quickly and watched the wolves look down worriedly at their owner after he was free of the ladder. Eyeing them, she said, “Can you send them to wait for you somewhere? They will attract too much attention down here.”

Rhone made a sharp gesture at them and Kali smiled impishly as Juno gave an irritated huff before disappearing with her sister. He moved to her side once again and she resisted the urge to take his hand. Silently they made their way into the heart of the Warrens where the bustling crowds could offer them some degree of cover. The smell of booze and vomit became stronger as she led them towards the Rat’s Nest, hoping to blend in with the patrons there.

Music, if you could call it that, echoed through the passage ahead--clearly created by musicians who believed in quantity of noise over quality. It competed with the riotous chatter of the drunk and soon-to-be-drunk members of the underground world.

A sound in the tunnel behind them made her quicken her pace, with a soft curse. She hadn’t expected the mercs to be so spread out in the city. Clearly, whoever was hunting the spellbook had deep pockets or strong connections to the Winter Court.

Ahead of them, Kali caught sight of the familiar uniformed men beginning to question some of the couples sitting at the bar--even yanking the cloak hood back from one annoyed male. She hesitated, mind whirling with possible escape routes and plans. They would fair better if they seperated but she didn’t want to leave Rhone alone in the Warrens on the off chance someone recognized him. If he was killed in a brawl all this work would’ve been for nothing.

So, Kali led him to a darkened alcove on the edge of the stalls in the massive chamber hoping the dim lighting would give them some cover. Stepping gingerly over a pile of some kind of liquid that she refused to identify, Kali tugged on Rhone’s sleeve until he was in the shadows beside her. She leaned carefully around the edge of the stall and frowned as the mercenaries continued their meticulous search of the area.

Rhone stepped closer to her, leaning down to whisper into her ear, “Do you know another way out?”

Kali tried to pretend like his warm breath on the shell of her ear hadn’t made goosebumps rush over her skin. “They’re blocking most of the exits,” she replied softly, her eyes on the men scattered through the hall. “We’ll need to lay low until they spread out enough so we can slip through.”

As if the thought summoned them, she watched a few of the mercenaries begin to thread their way through the room towards the stalls. Pulling back from her vantage point, she considered her options as she looked at Rhone.

A wild, wicked plan slowly came to mind and she barely restrained a grin as she stepped toward him. Quickly she leaned up on her tiptoes to muss the pale hair that was still gathered with a neat tie at the base of his neck before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt and pulling his jacket more open.

“Not that I mind,” he drawled, “but you have awful timing.”

Snickering, Kali ran her fingers through her own hair until it was as rumpled as his. Her sensitive ears caught the footsteps slowly moving closer and she pulled her cloak closer to cover the white of her already ruined dress.

Without giving him any warning, Kali pressed herself against the prince’s strong body and pulled his head down to hers and kissed him with all the passion of a lover in the throes of lust. His lips were warm under hers and she took advantage of his startled breath to thrust her tongue into his mouth to tease and toy with his own.

Rhone growled and suddenly her back was hitting the cool stone walls as he began to kiss her in earnest. Her hands trailed over his hard abdomen before returning to tangle in his hair. He kissed like he was waging war, demanding her surrender even as he worked to draw her closer to him.

Distantly she heard a masculine chuckle as a mercenary caught sight of their show and Kali tried to remind herself that that was all this was as Rhone’s hands ran over the curve of her hip and pulled her impossibly closer. He smirked against her lips as they broke for air, leaning close enough that the other soldier couldn’t overhear, “If you wanted me to kiss you so badly, little thief, all you had to do was ask.”

The challenging laughter in his eyes was enough to make her own mouth twitch into a sultry smile. Leaning forward, she raked her teeth over the sensitive skin of his neck. “I had more than kissing on my mind,” she whispered in a voice layered with sin.

His husky laugh died on a sudden intake of breath as she slowly kissed her way down his front, stopping occasionally to nip and tease his taut muscles. One of his hands hit the wall above her as though he needed it to keep his balance when her clever little fingers began to toy with the waistband of his pants. His breath was ragged enough that she felt a little thrill go through her that had absolutely nothing to do with their escape attempt.

She felt drunk on the soft sounds he made each time she touched him and she let her fingers brush against the hot skin of his waist. She wanted more, needed more.

Her fingers clenched on his waistband as an icy wave of sanity hit her, cooling her ardor. What the hell was she doing? She was practically on her knees in front of a male who was trying to lock her away for the rest of her long life, even if he had agreed to give her a chance to prove herself. Taking a deep breath, Kali cursed herself for being seven kinds of stupid as she slowly rose to her full height once more.

Pasting a cocky smile on her face, she kissed his cheek, “Looks like we can head out now. They’ve moved on.”

Without waiting for his response, she slipped around him and headed for the edge of the stalls.


	11. Freezing Waters and An Ambush

They attacked as the last of the weak light of day began to disappear beneath heavy clouds that promised more snow. Kali and Rhone were making their way over the wooden bridge that provided a safe passage over the massive, riotous currents of the Sidhe River, still fat from the melting snows high in the mountains when the the area around them seemed to grow quiet.

A growl from Juno was that only warning they got before eight soldiers wearing the uniform of the Winter Court surrounded them on both sides of the river bridge. Rhone frowned and started to step forward, but Kali caught his arm. 

“They aren’t Winter Court guards,” she said quietly.

Rhone gave the soldiers at both ends of the bridge another assessing look. “How do you know?” he asked calmly, his voice as soft as her own.

“I’ve marked every guard in the city,” she replied with a teasing smile. “I’m sure you can guess why.”

His fingers closed around his sword as one of the soldiers stepped forward, close enough that he could be heard over the roar of the water. “Give us the girl quietly and we can all go our separate ways,” he said. 

The accent was off for the Winter Court but Kali couldn’t recognize where she’d heard it before. Rhone straightened his back and let the haughty mask of a High Lord’s son slide over his chiseled features, “She is here under my protection. Move along.”

Kali shifted her weight into a fighting stance as she noted that the soldiers behind them were beginning to move closer. She angled her body so her back was to the river so she could watch both groups. The way they were moving without conferring with their leader told her this was a planned, coordinated attack. They knew they would follow the strange male who’d been at the scene.

It was a trap.

As if her thoughts summoned it, one of the soldiers pulled on a magic that she could smell like the heady scent of ozone and a summer storm. He’d aimed his blast for Rhone, but the prince moved easily out of its way and shot a shard of deadly ice deep into his heart before Kali could loose the dagger in her hand.

The man’s twitching, bleeding corpse fell to the ground with a hollow thud against the wood and his compatriots rushed them as though that were the signal to begin. Before Rhone say anything, she leapt forward with two wicked looking daggers towards the four soldiers that were moving up from the other side. She heard him curse and whistle to one of his wolves before her blades clashed against the broadsword of the talkative male and her mind fell into the rhythm of battle.

Sweeping low under a brutal swing of that sword, she slid between two soldiers and let her knives cut deep into the muscles of their legs. They cried out in pain but before she could follow up, a blur of white fur and flashing teeth tackled one of the injured soldiers to the ground.   
Kali paused in surprise and received a rough blow to her back for her trouble. Gritting her teeth as her temper flared, she whirled and grabbed the handle of the hand axe before the soldier could strike her again. He hadn’t bothered to hit her with the axe blade, just the thick handle. They were trying to capture them, she realized, not kill them. Whoever had sent them must know she had the spellbook and wanted to use her to locate it.

Too bad she had no problem killing all of them, Kali thought as she stared into the shocked brown eyes of the soldier in front of her and twisted the knife sunk deep in his gut.

A blast of frozen wind hit her hard enough that she lost hold of her dagger as she was flung through the air. The wooden slats of the bridge were slick with ice from the condensation and occasional splashes from the river and her hands and boots scrabbled to find purchase. Only a lucky handhold on the decorative railing of the bridge kept her from sliding off the bridge and into the icy river. Panting with adrenaline, she clutched her last knife and assessed the final soldier on this side of the bridge.

Distantly she could hear the sounds of Rhone and Freja standing against the other group of men. She dared to glance over at them long enough to see Rhone sink his blade into the chest of one of the men and toss him over the side of the bridge into the waters below. Freja, the smaller wolf, seemed to be doing just fine against her own opponent which meant Kali was free to focus on the magic wielder in front of her.

Briefly she considered using her own magic but worried that if she projected too much, it would distract Rhone. No, she would need to end this the old fashioned way.

As if sensing the impending battle, the soldier began to call on more magic and Kali tried not to let her eyes widen as she watched the bloodied form of Juno rise from her prey and begin to stalk towards the soldier like a nightmare in mottled red and white. She tossed her knife into the air and caught it deftly, letting the bright metal of her blade act as a distraction as Juno moved closer. 

“Stupid bitch,” the male snarled, glancing at the mangled bodies of his comrades. “I can’t wait to have my turn with you.”

She refused to let the threat take hold in her mind. Refused to let him drag her down into the nightmares Amarantha had so lovingly created. Instead, she cocked her head to the side and made a show of running her fingers over her bloodied knife, “Looks like it’s your turn now...unless you were hoping your friends could help.”

Juno was inching closer with predatory skill and she tried not to hold her breath. The wolf was almost close enough to leap for him. Kali just needed to stall a little longer.

That wind blasted for her again and she dropped like a stone to the wooden bridge, cursing as it passed overhead. He readied for another blast as she stood and Juno’s attention briefly flicked to her. It was enough for her to step too close to the dying soldier that Kali had gutted. He jerked and coughed in pain and the magic user’s eyes flicked toward the noise.

Kali saw the shock in his gaze as he took in Juno ready to crouch and rush towards him and instinctively sent his wind towards her. Juno yelped in pain and surprise as the attack hit her hard enough to send her flying. Kali screamed in fury and hurled her last blade to land deep in the mage’s eye, but she knew it was already too late.

Claws scratched into the wood as Juno slammed into the fragile railing and began to go over. Rhone shouted something behind her, but Kali was already running--her eyes fixed on the panic in the wolf’s eyes as she fell over the edge and into the waters below.

She didn’t have time to hesitate or even plan how she would survive what she was planning but she knew she couldn’t let Juno drown. Couldn’t let her sink alone to the bottom of this massive river.

Kali pulled her cloak free as she ran to where Juno had crashed through the railing and lept into the open air. For a moment, the world seemed to pause and then she was slamming into the shockingly cold waters of the Sidhe. 

The shock of the temperature made the air in her lungs burst out of her with a muffled shriek of shock and pain. Almost immediately she could feel the effects of the icy water slowing her limbs, making it difficult to swim or move. The world around her faded into the sounds of the river as it flowed over its rocky bed and the thundering noise of its icy crust breaking and reforming.

Her head broke the surface of the water long enough for her to suck in a frantic breath and look for any sign of Juno. The wolf was clinging to one of the larger pieces of ice but Kali could see her starting to lose her grip, those massive claws chipping away at her life raft. Their eyes met for a heart beat before the current dragged her down again.

Some buried instinct in her kept her from fighting the flow of the river, instead she pulled on the gleaming vein of magic that curled around her soul. Swimming became easier as she manipulated the currents around her to carry her closer to the wolf. Her world became consumed with closing the gap between their two forms before the water dragged the animal under. Kali knew she wouldn’t be able to pull herself up again.

The shivers that wracked her body were beginning to weaken and Kali ignored the warnings her body continued to make as it began to shut down under the force of the cold. Instead she filled her mind with the images of a warm, humid land full of rivers and oceans with nothing but warm currents. The shaking slowed and she pretended that it was because her body was becoming acclimated.

She nearly wept when her hands closed around the wet fur of the wolf. Juno flinched in surprise but was too weakened by her own struggles to fight her. Kali murmured soothingly to her as she summoned the last of her strength and magic and pulled Juno away from the ice.

Immediately the water closed over her head once again and she felt Juno thrash against her. Gritting her teeth, she yanked on her magic until the water was once again pulling them to one of the banks of the river. Juno stopped moving and Kali refused to let herself think that all of this could be for nothing. That she had been too late.

The sensation of rocks, then gravel beneath her feet caused a sob of relief to burst from her chest. Crawling up the slight incline away from the water, Kali tried to pull Juno along with her. Her fingers were too numb to close around the wolf so she was forced to push her as far as she could out of the water.

Only after she was sure Juno was breathing, did she finally allow herself to collapse. Her head lay against the damp fur of Juno’s chest and she found comfort in the steady rhythm of her heart. Kali smiled distantly at the sky above her and felt a content sort of triumph come over her as she slowly let her eyes drift closed.


	12. Out of the Cold

Rhone raced down the edge of the river Sidhe, Freja howling on his heels for her fallen sister. The image of his restless, haughty thief leaping from the bridge after Juno into the icy waters below was a sight he could never forget. His feet slammed into the snow with a practiced grace as he watched them both flowing with the current - watching their energy fade with every frigid breath. 

He’d never felt possessive of much in his life aside from his wolves. Freja and Juno were his companions, the loves of his life, the only creatures he didn’t seem to think were entirely absurd. Juno was the wolf he had purchased from a trapper who would have rather kept the pup for her full grown coat, but Rhone outbid his usual seller. 

After days of Juno running away from him like a hapless puppy, he finally let her lead him to the small den that held her barely living sister. Rhone still wasn’t sure how Freja had survived, she was a soft hearted runt, but she learned to be nearly as vicious as her sister once the need to protect had risen. 

He could feel Freja’s panic in her restless whimpers staggered between the breaths of her stride. 

It was a panic he strangely felt watching his thief’s head sink beneath the roaring waters once more. 

The thief had truly been more trouble than this book was worth to him, but something about her reminded him of finding Juno fighting in the arms of her captor as he passed them in the woods, of Freja curled up into a ball so tight he wasn’t sure she was still alive. 

She was alone, as far as he knew, and she needed help. 

They were forced to run parallel to the crashing river, searching for a way down the banks for a short distance. Only occasionally did he catch a flicker of the thief’s warm skin or white fur amongst the shifting ice plates and swirling waters. He wished his magic could help somehow and he found himself desperately searching for her own powers to amplify just to feel as if he were helping. 

For several heartbreaking seconds, there was nothing but the sound of the river and the frantic beat of his heart as Rhone tried to find any sign of life in the freezing waters. His sure footing stumbled and he came to a stop, panting and breathless with a panic that wiped away every thought in his mind but one.

Please be alive. 

Freya was moving towards the water as if she could find Juno on her own, but Rhone gripped her firmly by the scruff of her neck. His eyes searched the ice blocks and current for any sign of life, any sign of hope for his thief and his wolf.

Then, just as he was about to attempt to use his magic to seek hers, Rhone caught a glimmer of silver and the darker skin of his thief rise above the water line just a few yards past him. The current continued to push them downriver and he watched, heart in his throat, as she began to pull Juno toward the shore. He raced along beside her, Freya yipping and calling to her sister, but all Rhone could see was the lines of exhaustion on the thief’s face and how pale she looked.

Finally they found the banks just as Rhone was attempting to wade into the edge of the river to try to pull them to safety himself. Kali pushed Juno toward the land, toward Rhone, until she collapsed into a shivering unconsciousness. 

He and Freja were there in an instant. Freja bit on her sister’s neck, dragging her out of the last few inches of water before laying down at her side, frantically licking Juno’s face, her lips and her ears. 

Rhone scooped up his sleeping thief, for the first time aware that he’d felt possessive of her from the first time she’d evaded him in the halls of his family’s palace. She was so small, tiny in his arms without her mischievous, infuriating personality on display. He found himself cradling her protectively as he pulled her close, trying to get some heat into her. 

Her lips were as blue grey as her eyes and he grew anxious. Rhone lowered them onto dry ground, setting her down in his crossed legs like a cradle, careful to keep himself as dry as possible before he unbuttoned each layer of his clothing one by one eventually coming to his thick undershirt. He pulled his smallest knife from his boot and sliced the shirt down the middle. 

She needed skin to contact. 

“Thief,” he blurted, his voice surprisingly shaken. “Now is not the time to bail on our bargain.” 

With a deep breath he stripped her wet, heavy dress from her body cutting it away with his blade. Somewhere in the back of his mind he planned out goading her with this moment, but the fear that she would not wake up for it to happen kept the grin from reaching his face. 

Rhone wrapped her naked body around his exposed chest, then surrounded her with his dry clothes, remastering his buttons. He tossed the heavy, sopping material into the water with a hint of wonder that she’d managed to swim so hard with that outfit dragging her down and pulled her tight against his chest.

The sting of the cold was a familiar foe as her body lowered his temperature, her chill trying to claw into his bones. But he knew he was larger, warmer. 

“Getting me naked already, princeling?” her voice was so small he wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined her snarky remark. 

He sucked in a deep breath of relief as her eyes barely fluttered open before falling shut again. 

“Perhaps next time we could do this without the ice water soaking my clothes,” he scoffed at her while assessing her color. 

She was still a terrifying shade of blue so he began to rub up and down her arms, hoping the friction would help, but paused when she mumbled something. 

“What?” 

Those wild grey eyes stared up at him sleepily, “My name isn’t thief—it’s Kali.”

Rhône made a humming sound, turning the syllables over in his mind. Kali, his little thief. 

Despite her condition, she jerked up in his arms with a sudden burst of energy looking around frantically until she saw Juno and Freja curled into each other beside them. “Is she okay?” she asked him. The sight of his pups soothed her immediately and Rhone was struck once more by her passion for them. “Good,” she mumbled to herself as he huddled his face near hers, blowing hot breaths on her - a fact that he knew would enrage her if she was fully conscious. 

He’d been irked by all her pointed remarks about his pets, but the way she had looked at them now… 

Rhone realized she thought him a monster, their keeper - torturer. The thought made him grin as she settled back into his chest. He shook her, his massive hands wrapping around her shoulders in an reminder of how small she was compared to him. “Don’t go to sleep,” he told her. “I need you to get warmed up and into dry clothes.”

Kali dug further into his chest, curling into him like she fit there. He wished he could give her the warmth her touch had given him. “I want to sleep.” She spoke against his skin and he felt every move of her frozen lips. The feeling distracted him into a quiet wonder. His feisty female had never been so gentle. 

He stood, keeping her firmly in his arms and looked to his wolves. Both white beasts made eye contact with him and rose, although Juno struggled. He needed to get her near a fire, but Rhone looked back at Kali and knew she would not react well waking up in an unfamiliar environment. Without wasting another moment, he took off on foot finding a balance between a quick pace and a speed Juno could keep up with. 

“Kali!” he shouted, his voice a low bellow through the streets as winter court citizens moved out of his way as they recognized him. He shook her again as she bounced with his steps. “Where are you staying? I need to get you dry clothes.”

“It’s a secret.” Her smirk tugged at his heart and he wanted to roll his eyes at her, but she hadn’t bothered to open hers. 

“This is not a time for games, woman,” he spat harsher than he’d meant to, an adrenaline filled worry spreading through him at her delirium. 

But then her grin faded. “I’m not staying anywhere.”

Rhone halted in the middle of the street, a passer by brushing against him with an accusatory sound. 

She was insane. This small, spirited woman was completely crazy. She had no sense of self preservation - or perhaps a warped version of one that made his skin crawl. The more he considered each of her actions since he’d met her the more angry he grew. She had no regard for herself - no perception of her value. 

“Where have you been sleeping?” he bit out. 

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my own shelter each night.”

For Cauldron’s sake. “You’ve been sleeping out in the cold?” He didn’t even bother hiding his rage anymore as she pressed a weak hand against his chest as if she was actually trying to pull herself away from him. He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled, until she realized the risks she’d been taking.

This gods damned woman would be the death of him. 

“You didn’t leave me much choice with all the guards you sent after me.” Her tone was thready and her teeth were beginning to chatter. “If you’ll let me borrow a shirt or something, I can make it from here,” Kali said, her voice muffled in her state as she swayed in his arms attempting to escape once again. 

He clenched his jaw and started a new path through the streets. “You’re not walking away from me in the freezing cold - especially not naked and especially not when there are witnesses.”

The rest of the way to his city apartment was spent in silence as he stewed while she slept. Juno and Freja kept up behind him better than he’d expected, even when his pace quickened after she drifted back into unconsciousness. Rhone had to remind himself that she’d been plenty spunky before passing out and he shouldn’t worry that she wouldn’t wake again. 

Worry, he laughed to himself. Since when was he a male who worried?

Freja whimpered behind him, reading his mind like she always did, and he looked ahead to the familiar shop doors. He flung them open, uncaring for any customers as he weaved through the lines of carpentry, the smell of fresh wood and the strong scent of their stains thick in the air. The shop owner nodded to him as he passed into the rear of the building climbing the wooden stairs that led to his apartment - his home away from home. 

The second they burst through the door, Freja and Juno climbed onto the massive living room sofa together. Juno looked to the empty fireplace expectantly while Freja watched her sister with apprehensive eyes. 

Rhone kicked in his bedroom door and unbuttoned his layers with one hand while the other held up Kali’s full weight before he could finally set her down. As he stepped away, he found it difficult to leave her there but he knew he needed to build them all a fire. He rushed through his home, throwing together the kindling faster than the last time he’d been the one to take a dip in the river Sidhe before returning to Kali and wrapping her up in his bedding. Rhone carried her over to the fire and sat against the brick, cradling her against him, ignoring how the press of her body against his was awakening every protective instinct he had. 

He thought back to the ambush and the mercenaries yesterday. Kali was a thief, no doubt, but she was right about whatever forces were after this spellbook. If it was important enough that even Thrace was lying to him about it, he wanted to be apart of it. But where the hell had she come from? How had she learned of something of this magnitude, something his father could potentially be involved in as well?

Kali shook in her sleep and his hands tightened around her reflexively. Something hardened in him at the realization that it was not the cold that made her shiver, but her dreams. Rhone let his head fall back against the brick and she rolled in his arms, his blanket falling from her shoulder. Reaching for it, he paused when he noticed the thin white band that curved behind her neck. He adjusted her in his lap to get a better look.

A warm fog of unsettling fury clouded his vision at the rivers of thicker white bands that rolled across her back.

Mercenaries were the least of her problems. 

Gently, he traced over hill after hill of raised scars with the pads of his fingers, counting them - memorizing them. This was a torture worse than he’d seen even in the depths of his soldier’s trainings - even in all his experience on a battlefield. He drank in the cruelty of it, felt each tender ribbon beneath his calloused hands not bothering to think of what she might think of him doing so.

He collected his rage, portioning it within him - storing it. 

Yes, he would work with his thief. He would finish whatever she had started and find out who was responsible for the scars of her past.


	13. An Uneasy Truce

Rhone  
When her temperature had risen enough for him to relax, he carried her back to his bed before taking to the kitchen to fix them all something. He pulled out meat for Freja and Juno who had been idly snoring for a few hours, but all four ears perked up at the sound of his knife sawing out their portions. Rhone handed them each bite, giving Juno an extra piece or two only to feel guilty and give Freja the same. 

They both brushed their heads against him as he bent to their eye level, opening his arms for them both to tuck themselves into his chest. His face fell to Juno’s, their eyes a hair’s breadth from each other and he whispered, “I thought I’d lost you for a minute there.” 

She licked his chin and Freja turned away to look for drops of food from his poor cooking skills and he took a minute to sit on the ground with Juno’s large form curled against his chest until she rolled into a tight ball between his legs. He let her sleep there for a while, petting her idly while Freja climbed back onto the couch falling asleep on her back in a childlike position.

After some time, Kali stirred and the gentle sound woke Juno who looked up at Rhone before rising to join Kali in his bed. 

He lit the fire for the stove and took his time cooking a stew, completely unaware of the last time he’d eaten. A sickening feeling dropped in his gut that if Kali hadn’t had a place to sleep, she probably hadn’t eaten much either. Stirring the meal, its scent beginning to fill the humble apartment, he looked across the room through his open door to see her sleeping form still naked and wrapped in his blankets, her face hidden by his pillow and the sheet of her silver hair. 

Pride bloomed in him, both foreign and instinctual at the sight of a female in his private bed within the home he’d never shown another being. 

Rhone focused on something more controllable, realizing that she would indeed need fresh clothes. That wicked little white dress was at the bottom of the Sidhe and he had no idea if she had any other clothes nearby. Scarfing down a quick helping, he put out the fire and left the rest behind for when she woke before heading back to the palace to borrow her a new wardrobe. 

 

Kali  
Consciousness returned slowly, as though her body was too content to risk waking fully and discovering that she was back in some alleyway alone. The sound of rhythmic breathing was enough to bring her fully awake with a jerk. Instead of the grey skies of the Winter Court or the dingy ceiling tiles of one of the rooms in the Warren, Kali looked up to a simple wooden ceiling and the scent of wet dog.

Some of her initial fears ebbed and she smiled slightly as she ran her fingers over the soft ear of the wolf closest to her. It twitched and suddenly she was eye to eye with the cunning eyes of Juno. They stared at each other for a moment before Juno yawned widely and lay her head across Kali’s chest, closing her eyes again.

Kali smiled softly, she guessed that meant they were friends now. 

For a few minutes she was content to lay under their warm, furry bodies, but eventually curiosity and the desire to see where Rhone was drove her out of the bed. Both wolves flopped back on the bed with dramatic sighs before snoozing again. She smiled at them before padding across the room towards the dresser.

The hours after she’d dived into the river were fuzzy but she felt a blush crawl out of her as she realized that the images of her being naked and pressed against the prince’s chest weren’t part of some elaborate dream. Her skin prickled against the cooler air of the room and she quickly began to look through the drawers in his dresser for something suitable to wear.

The heady, masculine scent of Rhone flooded the room and her senses to the point that Kali was sure she would never be able to mistake it for anyone else. The scent of wind and cedar rose from the clothing folded neatly away from the handmade chest of drawers in the corner and she quickly perused the contents. She pulled a dark grey shirt that was soft and worn and slipped it over her head, frowning as it fell to her knees. Stupid, giant males.

Curiosity rose in her as her grey eyes took in the simple but comfortable furnishings of the small apartment. Judging by the single bedroom and the dog hair covering all the surfaces, she guessed that this was a sanctuary for the trio. Kali ran her hand along the carved wooden table and let her eyes scan the room, eventually landing on the stew simmering on the stove.

Her stomach growled loud enough for Juno to look up from the bed, but Kali forced the hunger aside with the ease of long practice. It was bad enough that she owed him for taking care of her--she didn’t need to add to the debt.

She smiled when she found a small portrait of a white haired, serious looking family on the bookcase beside the fireplace. A younger Rhone stood stiffly between two other young males and their proud looking parents. Kallias’ eyes seemed to glow and she smiled faintly that the High Lord had been able to return to the female who’d caused him to feel such longing Under the Mountain. She’d only seen him a few times and only remembered the sensation of bone deep sorrow and fear that sat like the ice in his eyes. Maybe the clever looking female was the cause for that all-consuming focus.

Kali wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling her own longing build at what the peaceful apartment and framed portrait stood for. Home. Family.

Everything that she hoped for in the deepest corners of her blackened heart.

As if she were attuned to his presence, Kali turned as Rhone opened the door and stepped into the warm room. His blue-green eyes gleamed in the firelight as he took in her bare legs peeking out from under his shirt. Before he could open his mouth to comment, she blurted, “I hope you didn’t expect me to lay around naked all day.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake if she planned to keep the prince at arms length. Tension built between them as those eyes wandered over her with a lazy heat. His voice sounded deeper as he grinned, “Actually…” He stalked toward her with heavy steps, oblivious to her boundaries as he closed every inch of distance between them until he nearly pressed himself against her. Rhone dipped his gaze again and she couldn’t help but lean into the heat between them. “Here.”

A thud sounded beside him as he dropped a bag on the wood floor. She clenched her jaw and turned to see it overflowing with feminine fabrics as Freja and Juno came to investigate the new smells. 

Kali crossed her arms beneath her breasts and tried to look unimpressed, “What is all this?” 

“Clothes,” he said with a grin, mimicking her earlier complaint, “You can’t just lay around naked all day.”

“I’m not wearing your play thing’s cast offs.”

Rhone batted his eyelashes at her and sighed, “You have such a low opinion of me. I don’t even have a play thing.”

Yet.

The word seemed to hang between them and she nibbled on her bottom lip as she studied the clothes suspiciously. “Where did they come from then? No shops are open this early.”

Rhone rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed as he shrugged, “I borrowed them.”

“From who?” 

“From my mother, you ungrateful wretch,” he said without heat and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his expression.

Mollified, Kali snatched up the bag and headed for the bathing room attached to his bedroom, brushing against him as she went just to prove she could. Heat lingered from the contact and Kali busied herself with cursing her for every kind of fool as she walked. Sounds of movement from the kitchen echoed around her like gentle whispers as she unpacked the small bundle of fabrics. It was strange to be inside a home with another person, she couldn’t remember if she’d ever relaxed around another member of her kind before. Her mood darkened when she stared at the clothing that tumbled out of the bag.

A snort of disbelief escaped as she lifted up a scrap of lace that was posing as reasonable underwear. This was borrowed from his mother? Anger and a bit of wickedness warred in her as she looked at the rest of the clothes. Scowling, Kali pulled on the pale lace and eyed herself in the mirror with a satisfied smirk. It was all filmy silk and clung to every curve and slope of her body, making her look soft and wicked all at once. 

If the prince thought she would back down from his challenge, he had another thing coming.

Stalking out of the bathroom in that ridiculous outfit was probably one of the stupidest things she’d ever done, but she refused to let Rhone think he won by avoiding the risque clothes. So she breezed past the two wolves waiting patiently for scraps and stood with her hands on her hips. “There is no way in hell that these clothes came from your mother,” her voice broke the peaceful silence of the apartment like the crack of a whip.

Rhone turned from where he’d been cooking something and she watched his curious expression go from shock to an appreciative heat that sank into her skin like sun on a summer’s day. His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to drink in the sight of her. Her skin prickled with warmth, but she refused to hide from him. Refused to be ashamed.

Finally he put his hands out, palm up in a placating gesture, “I swear, I went back to the palace and asked her to let me borrow some clothes because you’re about her size.”

Kali crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the floor in a staccato rhythm, “So you’re trying to tell me that the High Lady of the Winter Court wears this kind of clothing?”

Rhone looked stricken as he realized what she was implying about his mother and she felt a grin growing at the edges of her lips. “You really borrowed these?” she asked hesitantly.

He raked his fingers through his hair, dislodging the strands from their neat tie, “I didn’t expect to be scarred for life in the process but, yes. That’s where they’re from.”

Feeling a little foolish, she nodded and turned to walk away to put on something a little more appropriate. Kali told herself that she wasn’t letting her gait shift into the sexy slink she’d perfected as a way to distract males, but she definitely didn’t hurry back to the bathroom. It felt good to know he was just as off balance with her as she did in his perfect apartment surrounded by the evidence of his happy life.

The rest of the clothes were much more utilitarian, if a little tighter than she prefered, but they were much better than the cast offs she usually used. Typically, most of the money she gathered went into the tools of her trade and food. Clothing was an unnecessary luxury for a street rat like her. Nice clothing was as much of a costume as the gear she wore on the job, but she felt more like herself in the commoner’s clothes. After all, she’d spent nearly five years of her life wearing nothing but the scraps she’d cobbled together from the animals she killed. 

Kali closed her eyes and breathed through the familiar pang of her memories. It was easy with the light of the late afternoon sun trickling through the large window beside of the bed and the warmth of a fire nearby. Here she could convince herself that she’d escaped. That she would never go back into the darkness.

A few moments later, Kali returned to the kitchen in a pair of leather pants that were covered in useful little pockets and a dark blue tunic. She eyed Rhone as he poured the soup into two bowls while she efficiently braided her long silver hair out of her face.

“I didn’t expect you to be so domestic,” she quipped.

He snorted, putting the bowls on the table in the nook further into the kitchen without fanfare before returning to the stove to wash up his mess, “Sit down and eat before you collapse.”

Kali eyed his concoction, wondering why the act of being cooked for made her feel so nervous. She leaned against the ice box, ignoring her cramping stomach, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? Feeding you?”

She gestured to the clothes and the bed still rumpled from where she’d been sleeping, “Our bargain was only for you to give me a day to prove that there is more to be concerned with than the fact that I stole the spellbook.”

“And you’ve already fulfilled that and saved the life of my firstborn in the process. You wanted me in, well I’m in.”

She blinked in surprise and frowned suspiciously, “Just like that?”

“Isn’t that what you were hoping for?”

It was but… “I didn’t save her so you would become an ally.”

“And I didn’t save you because we’re allies, either.”

Kali straightened her spine and looked at him, “Why did you help me then?”

He stepped over to the table once more, their bowls still wafting up visible steam. “Because you needed me and I was there and able,” he said simply, pulling out one chair before sitting in the other. Juno and Freja swarmed him, but he made a sharp sound and they backed off, both padding over to lay on the couch with their muzzles resting on its back to watch them eat. 

The thought that the prince had helped her without expecting anything in return was incomprehensible to her and she remained standing at the edge of the table. “What do you want in return?” she pressed.

His brows furrowed. “Don’t trash my place, I guess,” he said before taking his first bite. “Can you please just sit down and eat something?”

She eyed the door, considering how close she was to any of her recent overnight shelters.

“Stop it,” he growled and her attention snapped back to him. “Stop trying to make up reasons not to trust me. Sit down and eat - I will not hold your lifeless body again today.”

Flushing slightly, Kali carefully sat at the table and picked up her spoon. Before she could lose her nerve, she muttered, “Thank you,” and took a bite.

As the first taste of her first home cooked meal filled her mouth, Kali felt something fragile inside of her shift. Like the cool sensation of the first drops of rain against overheated skin, a fragile link bloomed within her. At first, she sat stunned and confused, mentally examining the tie that seemed to seamlessly bond to her soul. With a thought, she followed that line back to the silent form of the prince as he began to eat his bowl of soup with focus and felt understanding dawn.

Mate, she thought dully, he was her mate.

Her breath seemed to lock in her chest as she continued to stare at him, waiting to see him experience the same overwhelming sensation of peace and joy. That hope faded as he looked up at her with a curious expression, “Is the food not to your liking?”

Numbly, Kali bowed her head and shoveled another bite of food into her mouth but couldn’t seem to taste it. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the bond was merely an example of their new alliance.

Her soul seemed to quiver in riotous joy as it revelled in the sensation of finding its missing piece. Kali knew that Rhone was her mate with the same surety that she knew the sun was hot and the air outside would be freezing.

When she was a child, Amarantha had told her about what happened when two fae met their mates. She’d described the link that bound the two souls together after they accepted a food offering and physical union to announce their bond to the world. That this bond could lead to one mate dying with their partner even if there was nothing physically wrong with them.

Then she’d ordered Kali to use her powers to drive a mated pair insane by harming only one of them.

Pushing away from the table in a burst of speed and horrifying memories, Kali stood and tried to ignore the way her hands were shaking. Rhone looked up in surprise at her sudden movement and the fear that she was sure he’d scented. She swallowed hard and started for the door, “I need to leave.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

But she wasn’t his.

What else could explain how relaxed and content he looked, blowing away the steam from his stew in an attempt to cool the liquid? Could he not feel how her world was splintering and reforming as quickly as it fractured? Her breath came ragged and uneven and she stumbled over her chair, her grace fleeing with the rest of her sanity. How could he be her mate? 

Why didn’t he feel the bond that cemented their souls together?

Calloused fingers closed around her arm as Rhone scrambled to catch her. Before the sensation could panic her, that pressure eased and he was looking into her eyes as though he could already see into her soul, “What’s wrong?”

Searching for a rational explanation for her behavior, Kali gestured vaguely at the room and the food, “Thank you for your help, but I need to get going.”

Icy eyes fell upon hers and she tried to ignore the fire it lit inside her. “You’re free to go if that’s what you really want, but I want you to stay here. Here, I’ll know you’re safe. Warm. Fed. Besides, I don’t think you really want to go… I think you don’t know how to stay.” 

Kali looked up at him trying not to think about how easily his words soothed her even as a part of her wanted to weep that this emotion was only a new torture. She was mated to a male she could never have. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, desperately searching for a way to get some sort of control on the situation. The question came out weaker than she wanted and she dropped her head to stare at the worn leather of his boots.

He shrugged, ignoring how flustered she was growing. “I like you.”

She stared at him as though the words didn’t make sense to her. “You...like me?” she said slowly, disbelieving, then let out an annoyed huff, feeling some of her strength return at the thought. “A couple hours ago you wanted to throw me into a jail cell.”

He looked over to his wolves playfully biting at each other’s muzzles before returning her gaze. “Well, you’d broken the law. Now I’ve also broken the law and seen you fight to save my life and my family’s lives. I get it now. I get that there’s something else going on with you and I want to be apart of it, so long as you’ll have me.”

“Oh,” she said weakly. The dark part of her whispered that his interest in her would fade and she would return to the world of her self-imposed exile once again. Maybe that was for the best. The things Rhone stirred in her would only lead to destruction--hers or his she wasn’t sure. “So you’re only interested in keeping me around to find out more about the spellbook,” her voice steadied with the realization that he wanted her for her knowledge and skills.

He let out a low rumbling laugh and stood. Her heart pounded in her chest faster with each step that brought him closer until he was only a breath from her once again, their heat filling the room and prickling her senses. “You’ve got trouble written all over you, little thief,” Rhone said with a wicked smile. “It would save me a lot of time and effort if I didn’t have to keep chasing you around the city constantly.”

“Not that it’s done you any good.”

His smile widened at the reminder of their little competition and he nodded. “Besides, I know it’s only a matter of time before one of the hundreds of guards scouring the city find you--or worse those mercenaries do. No one will ever suspect that you’re staying in my private apartment.”

Kali looked around at the warm wood and comfortable furnishings in the simple flat. Yes, she thought, this had the big warrior written all over it. “And what do you want in return?” she asked, voice carefully neutral. Nausea churned in her stomach, fighting against the hope that he wouldn’t be like the males Under the Mountain. That he would be better.

Mate.

Scowling, Rhone looked her over and she winced at the sympathy that grew in his eyes as he began to understand what she was asking. “Our deal is only about the spellbook,” he said bluntly, “I just want to make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. As long as you’re staying here, I’ll be sleeping on the couch unless you’d prefer me to stay at the palace?”

Numbly, she shook her head and walked back to her soup. After a moment, Rhone sank back into his seat across from her, muscles still tense like he expected her to bolt for the door again. 

As she ate, Kali came to two conclusions. First, the mate bond she felt must be a fluke or some kind of trick. She’d never heard of a one sided mate bond--or one that didn’t immediately appear after meeting the other half of your pair. Though love was not guaranteed, both partners would be drawn to claim and protect their partner regardless of who it was. If Rhone was truly her mate, he would never let her walk away from him. He would want to protect her and keep her close in the way her child’s heart had once dreamed of. 

The second was that her one chance at happiness would never come to be.


	14. Spies and Exes

Kali woke to the sound of the door to the apartment clicking shut behind Rhone’s retreating form. She frowned, sitting up from the comfortable mattress and looking around. The apartment was quiet in the early light of day and she stretched, her body still exhausted from her swim in the river yesterday.

 

Slipping out from under the warm covers, she padded into the living room and eyed the neatly folded blankets that indicated where Rhone had slept last night. It seemed strange that the source of her nervous energy and anticipation the evening before was reduced to only a few pieces of fabric and a pillow. When she’d agreed to stay in the apartment--when she’d discovered he was her mate--she’d assumed that her stay here would include...benefits. 

 

Maybe she’d misread his intent even if the memory of his lust when she’d flirted with him in his bedroom made her cheeks burn.

 

Juno lay stretched out in front of the freshly stoked fire and opened one eye to lazily watch her as she walked through the house. A note was lying neatly on top of the sturdy wooden table and she snagged an apple from the bowl on the counter to eat while she read the scrawled words.

 

I have to go to the palace to take care of some things; I’ll be back this afternoon. 

Try not to steal anything.  
\--R

 

Kali snorted at the last line and tossed the piece of paper back onto the table, munching on the apple. Surely the prince didn’t expect her to just sit around all day waiting for him to get back. 

 

Wandering over to the massive white wolf, Kali crouched beside her and scratched her behind the ear, “I suppose you’re meant to be my babysitter?”

 

Juno sneezed and nudged her hand for more attention.

 

Grinning, Kali scratched her belly some more, noting that the other wolf was nowhere to be seen. Freja must have followed Rhone on his trip back to the palace. Eventually she stood and began to rifle through Rhone’s simply furnished apartment for anything of interest. She found mostly clothes, a few pieces of paper indicating some business interests in the wood shop below, and a few well-loved carving tools tucked away neatly in one of the hand carved side table in his living room.

 

She tucked a dagger she found discarded under his bed to replace the weapons she’d lost in the river. It was maddening to be so vulnerable around the prince and forced to rely on his charity. For an hour or so, she prowled around the house, trying to understand the white-haired Rhone and his world and pass the time while waiting for him to show back up.

 

The thought that she was waiting around like he’d told her to was enough to make Kali pull on a thick sweater that was hanging in his closet and smelled like cedar and cool wind. She refused to acknowledge how much the scent of Rhone seemed to center her or the happiness she felt wearing his clothes as though he’d claimed her. Juno looked up as she walked to the door and Kali gave her a curious look when the wolf padded to her side.

 

“You don’t have to come with me, you know.”

 

Juno’s eyes remained locked on the doorknob, so Kali sighed and let her walk out with her. Maybe she needed to stretch her legs or find a nice patch of ice to relieve herself on.

 

Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of a saw moving through a block of wood in a familiar rhythm. A bell rang at the front of the store and she used it as an opportunity to slip through the back exit without being noticed by the burly man she could see chatting with a customer. No sense attracting more attention. 

 

As soon as they were free from sight of the cheery little carpenter’s shop, Kali turned to Juno. Her fingers carefully slipped around the latches of the collars and within a moment, the heavy leather fell into her hands. Juno cocked her head curiously at her and Kali took a step back, “You can leave now. You’re free.”

 

Juno stared at her, long pink tongue falling out of her mouth in a doggy smile. 

 

She frowned at the wolf, “You don’t have to stay here with me. I’ll take the blame from Rhône.”

 

When Juno continued to watch her placidly, Kali huffed and threw her arms in the air. “Silly beast. Don’t you want your freedom?”

 

Pursing her lips, she decided to leave the wolf to her own musings, but glared at Juno when she heard her soft footsteps continue to trail her. Putting her hands on her hips, Kali tried to mimic the stern whistle of Rhône to no avail. People were beginning to watch the exchange curiously, but one scowl from Kali sent them hurrying along the sidewalk. 

 

Finally, she sighed and began to walk again, muttering under her breath about brainwashing and captivity. With Juno at her side, she made her way into the bustling market square nearby, idly plotting escape routes should Rhône go back on his word. She didn’t expect him too but she’d been surprised before and learned from her mistakes.

 

Part of her thought she should just disappear now that she had a chance.

 

It wasn’t until her stomach growled loudly that she realized she had no money to buy food. Faced with the option of returning to the apartment like a new pet or fending for herself, Kali set about selecting an easy mark to pick up a few coins from. She waited until an imperious looking male came strolling through the market, curling his lip at the children playing in the freshly fallen snow to make her move. It was the work of a moment to cut the heavy bag of coins free from his belt as he was jostled by the busy crowd. 

 

She followed her nose to a delicious looking meat pie vendor and bought four pies with her new purse. Juno happily ate three of the pies while Kali licked the juice and crumbs from hers off her fingers from the fourth. They sat contentedly in the weak afternoon sunlight beside one of the temples in the center of Kharos for a while, watching the crowd together and sunbathing. 

 

A flash of familiar grey hair had her standing and dusting off her hands on her pants. Not bothering to signal to the white wolf who continued to trail her, Kali made her way through the crowd towards the ancient laundress hawking her skills to the people in the crowd wealthy enough to afford them. 

 

As a demi-fae, Rycca was not lucky enough to retain the eternal beauty and long life of the full blooded high fae. Instead her face showed evidence of the slow passage of time in her grey hair and creased face, though it had not dimmed the clever brown eyes that assessed Kali as she approached. 

 

“Need something cleaned miss?” The older female asked with a polite bob of her head that was slightly diminished when she leaned over to spit a glob of mucus onto the street. 

 

Kali gave her a slight smile and passed her a gold coin. “My stains can’t be washed away I’m afraid,” she said softly, using the code she’d learned through a series of bribes in the Warrens. 

 

The underground network of outlaws was ruled by a male named Stryker who controlled his tiny kingdom with carefully placed spies throughout the city. They were a legion of males and females like Rycca who passed under the noses of guards and into the homes of all manner of society without raising suspicion. It was a lucrative scheme and one that was vital to Kali’s hunt for the person or group that was toying with Amarantha’s magic. 

 

Though the laundress was infamous for her surly nature, her type of business made her the perfect source for events in both the slums and the richest parts of town. If there was any kind of activity going on in Kharos—good or bad—Rycca would know. The trick was convincing her that it was worth her while to share. 

 

Rycca peered at her for a moment, “What do you want from me, girl?”

 

“I need word of any bodies that have been found around the Warrens.”

 

The old woman laughed harshly and spat again, “There’s always bodies being found around the den of thieves.”

 

“These are not typical murder victims,” Kali pressed. “They would have strange markings carved into them and look like they’ve been rotting for longer than what is possible.”

 

Rycca’s eyes narrowed, “What kind of business is this to you?”

 

“A private one,” Kali replied smoothly with a glare of her own. “One that I will pay fairly for.”

 

They paused their conversation to allow a group of teenagers to pass by, loudly discussing the results of the latest arena game. When they were safely out of earshot, Rycca began to gather her wash basins and clothing off the line she’d strung between two buildings. “Stryker doesn’t want none of us messing around with dark magic,” she said worriedly. 

 

“All I need to know is if any other bodies have been found,” Kali intercepted the laundress as she began to move her cart. “Come on, Rycca,” she said soothingly and sent a pulse of peace through the other female, watching the magic make her visibly relax. “All I want is to stop this before any other bodies are found.”

 

Rycca sniffed and finally muttered, “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, girl.”

 

Kali grinned unrepentantly, knowing she’d won. Rycca clucked her under her chin for her impertinence and begrudgingly admitted, “I’ve heard rumors that two bodies were found on the entrances closest to the Winter Palace.”

 

Frowning, Kali considered this, “Does Stryker have any idea who might be doing the killings?”

 

“Your guess is as good as mine I’m afraid,” Rycca said as she gathered the last of her goods. Within a few moments, her grey haired friend was disappearing into the crowd with only the clatter of the wheels of her cart to mark her passage. 

 

Kali looked over at Juno sitting patiently nearby and sighed. Someone was trying to gather magic for something big or they would never need to drain so many victims this quickly. The thought was enough to make a nervous thrill go through her. Why would the caster risk killing and dumping their victims so close to the Winter Palace and the guards that patrolled that area?

 

Behind her, the large stone clock tower began to chime, signaling that the afternoon was coming to an end. Still lost in thought, Kali and Juno wound their ways through the streets of Kharos back to Rhône’s apartment. Oddly, having the large wolf padding beside her and occasionally brushing against her legs was a comforting sensation against the 

 

She was so caught up in trying to guess a reason for the magic gathering without the completed spellbook to use that she nearly pulled her knife when a friendly voice called out to her from within the woodshop, “Welcome back!”

 

Kali looked up to find a friendly looking male who appeared to be in his late twenties, peering down at her curiously. She was surprised to see skin several shades darker than her own—an oddity in the land of pale skin and hair. Messy dark hair with flecks of wood shavings framed a face loved by the sun and gentle brown eyes. 

 

A poster boy for the warm climates and rolling waves of the Summer Court. 

 

Realizing she’d been staring at him for a moment to long, she gave him a nod of greeting, “Are you the owner of this shop?”

 

“I run the shop with Rhône,” the big male said and held out a hand for her to shake, “I’m Briar.”

 

“Jessa,” she said softly, intrigued with the new information about Rhône. She’d assumed he only rented the apartment above the shop as a way to escape the palace but he must have stronger ties with this male if they ran a business together. 

 

Briar squatted down on his haunches to pet Juno and coo over her silky fur, “What are you doing without your little sister, eh?”

 

Kali shrugged, “I think Freja must have gone with Rhône this morning.”

 

Juno made a happy noise and moved closer to Briar so he could rub her ears even as he frowned at her, “That’s strange...I don’t think I’ve ever seen them go anywhere without the other.”

 

“Maybe Rhône told her to stay behind,” Kali said dismissively. After all, the prince obviously thought she needed to be watched over. 

 

“Maybe,” he replied weakly and stood once again to look her over. “You can’t imagine how surprised I was when Rhône said he had a guest,” Briar continued with a smile and a wink. 

 

Arching an eyebrow, she asked, “Does he not usually bring females around?”

 

Not that she cared, Kali amended silently. She had no claim to the princeling.

 

“Oh, he has plenty of females when the mood strikes him but, Rhône makes a point of not bringing them back to the apartment.”

 

Kali tried not to bristle at the ‘plenty of females’ comment. Of course the handsome princeling would be popular with the ladies. A sharp sting of pain made her look down to see her stolen blade cutting into her palm with a bright line of blood. 

 

Another cheerful ring had the door had them both turning to see a pretty blonde walk through the door with a soft swish of skirts. Briar frowned and muttered, “Speak of the devil…”

 

Kali followed his line of sight and took in the voluptuous curves of the female in front of her. Her hair was carefully curled and arranged in a style that made her look like she was ready to fall back into bed with a lover. She’d been dressed in a wine red gown that clung to every part of her perfectly proportioned body and looked absolutely ridiculous in the thick snow falling outside. Only the fur trimmed woolen cloak kept her outfit from being totally freezing in the Winter Court. Although, Kali thought darkly, she’d probably still get frostbite thanks to the plunging neckline that showed off the chest that looked like it would burst free if she sneezed.

 

The girl smiled warmly at them and batted her long eyelashes at the carpenter, “Hello, Briar. Long time no see.”

 

“Rhône isn’t here, Aurora.”

 

The abruptness in his voice made Kali glance back at Briar to see a sudden coldness in the once friendly face. Just who was this girl to Rhône?

 

Aurora gave a sad sigh, “I was afraid of that. I just keep missing him lately.” Those blue eyes seemed to focus on Kali for the first time and she ran a slow, meaningful look over the oversized sweater and simple trousers that Kali was wearing. A moment later the smile was back, paired with an gracefully extended hand, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Aurora, but most of my friends call me Rory.” 

 

Kali took the hand with the same watchfulness she gave a snake waiting to strike, “I’m Jessa.” Beside her, Juno was tense, her bright eyes fixed on the other female. 

 

Aurora barely spared a glance for the wolf, still focused on Kali, “Are you a friend of Rhône’s?”

 

Smothering a laugh at what Rhône would think of her describing their relationship as friendship, she replied, “Something like that.”

 

“How strange,” Aurora said with an embarrassed giggle, “he’s never mentioned you before.”

 

“We only recently became acquaintances.”

 

“Do you work as one of the guards at the palace?” The other female asked with a predatory gleam in her eyes, “You have such a...muscular body.”

 

Kali narrowed her eyes. So the little witch wanted to play, hmm? Briefly, she considered making Aurora wet herself in fear with her abilities, but decided that was cheating. She’d break this bitch down the old fashioned way. 

 

Briar made an uncomfortable noise at the rising tension in the room, but Kali ignored him in favor of running her own gaze over the other female until a hot flush creeped over her pale skin. Then she gave her a friendly smile that evoked rumpled sheets and bedroom secrets. “How strange,” she mocked silkily, “Rhône has yet to complain about my body.”

 

Aurora hissed and took a step toward her, “Rhône would never lower himself to wasting his time with a street rat.”

 

“Maybe he got bored with rich bitches.”

 

Briar choked and attempted to step between them, but both women leveled a glare in his direction that made him halt in his tracks. 

 

Kali let a cool, polite smile crease her lips as she asked innocently, “Was there something you needed assistance with? Perhaps another dresser to hang the pretty clothes your daddy bought you in?”

 

This time it was Aurora’s turn to bristle. “I was merely responding to Rhône’s request that I come visit him soon.”

 

Red flashed in Kali’s vision, but she let her voice remain cool. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize brothels made home visits. How innovative.”

 

She told herself it didn’t matter to her if Rhone slept with all of Kharos, this fight was all about the disdain in the other female’s eyes.

 

Aurora took a step towards her and Kali tried not to look too excited to spill her blood over her pretty dress. Briar made a sound of relief when the door chimed once again, “Oh thank the Mother, Rhône!”

 

The other female turned to look at the prince with triumph and desire in her eyes, “Rhône! I’m so glad to see you--it’s been too long.”

 

Kali remained silent, threading her small blade through her fingers in a complicated pattern as the prince stepped into the room and took in the scene before him. She could feel amusement and concern--probably for the safety of his shop and Rory--flicker through him, but Kali refused to speak through her own fury. That anger turned molten when the other female pressed herself against Rhone’s side and smiled up at him with a familiarity that had Kali grinding her teeth.

 

Her fingers itched with the urge to throttle her, especially when Rhone didn’t immediately shove her away. It was a battle with her patience and control that her shields didn’t let any of her riotous emotions show. Instead, she reined each sensation in until they were completely contained within her own mind. If Rhone wanted to protect the little shrew, Kali would walk out the door right then and leave them to it she promised herself.

 

And if she was very lucky, she could corner Rory in some forgotten alleyway the next time she was alone...  
__________________________________________

Thanks for reading the latest chapter of The Thief and the Soldier! I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think so far. Reviews keep my inner muse happy and are greatly appreciated. :)


	15. The Invitation

Freja had been clingier without her sister as she walked with her nose against Rhone’s leg the whole way back to his apartment - not that he was complaining. Delorea’s presence was still thick on his skin like a layer of residual sweat after a spar. It was unnerving. He was grateful for Freja’s close companionship as he tried and failed to shake off the feelings Delorea had inspired in him, especially as Briar’s woodshop came into view. 

Rhone wasn’t sure what he was expecting to return to. He wasn’t even sure Kali would be there anymore. She could be on a ship to Cretea by now and he wouldn’t be surprised. There was a nagging fear in him that he labeled worry for Juno who adamantly refused to leave Kali that morning. It definitely couldn’t be the attachment he felt blossoming in his chest every time he was around his thief. 

She was just so gods damned distracting. 

Kali’s snarky tone fell upon his ears before he’d even opened the front door and he felt a flicker of relief. The bell to the shop door sounded and there was an abrupt silence as sharp, clicking footsteps barreled toward him. 

“Oh thank the gods, Rhone!” Familiar warm blonde hair came into his view and he nearly cringed. “Rhone! I’m so glad to see you--it’s been too long.” 

“Rory,” he said as she pressed herself against him in what he thought she wanted to be a hug, but instead was just her shoving her breasts onto his chest. Rhone looked over to Kali and saw Briar behind her with wide eyes. “Why are you here?” he asked Rory, despite his gaze travelling to Kali, who was refusing to make eye contact with him. 

She peeled herself off him slowly, staying within reach and placed a possessive hand on his forearm. “I came to find you and this homeless girl has been harassing me… I think she was trying to steal your dog!” Rory whipped out a finger to point to Juno who sat by Kali’s side with a smile on as she panted in contentment. Distantly Rhone noted Juno was missing her collar before he looked up to his thief who finally turned her grey eyes to him, palpable annoyance bordering on violence simmering in her features. 

“I think you mean this homeless girl was about to kick your ass,” she purred to Rory, though Rhone couldn’t help but feel the threat was also meant for him and the thought made him grin. 

And then he saw his thief was wearing his sweater. 

The lingering stickiness of his time with Delorea faded a bit more as he filled with a heat looking at this tiny female who had slept in his bed and spent the day with his wolf. A territorial urge to throw her over his shoulder and take her back up to his apartment consumed him, but something about the idea of her fighting with an ex-lover of his seemed just as enjoyable. 

“Ladies,” he said, his voice taking a hint of a theatrical tone, “please - no need to fight over me.” He removed Rory’s hand from his arm with two fingers, tossing it away from himself. 

Rory huffed and placed both hands on her hips. “There’s no need to fight because you wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping with her.”

Juno snarled as Kali lunged, one arm extended like she’d been dying for this exact punch all day. 

Rhone stepped between them, slipping his hand around Kali’s hips and pulling her to his side and away from Rory whose face was petrified, her hands covering her face in horror.

“There’s no need to fight because I am sleeping with her,” Rhone announced. He felt Briar move awkwardly behind them and he imagined him seeking shelter behind the front desk. Kali’s eyes were ready to flay him alive when he looked down and said loud enough for the whole room to hear, “Sorry I was gone so long, baby. How’d you sleep?”

And just for extra measure he placed one sweet kiss on her temple right beside the small vein throbbing with fury. For a moment, Kali narrowed her eyes at him, but he saw her glance at the blonde standing nearby with an assessing stare. Then she melted against him, her curves pressing tight against him like a missing piece of a puzzle.

She nuzzled her nose against his chest and smiled up at him, blatantly ignoring Rory, “Like a baby. You kept me up so late last night, I needed all the sleep I could get.”

His smile was real as the last weight from earlier faded off him. “Anything for you.”

A sound of feminine rage rose up behind them and Kali slowly turned to face the other female, “Oh, you’ll have to excuse my poor manners...I was distracted.” Her teeth grazed the side of his neck and he felt goosebumps spread along the sensitive skin. “What were you saying again?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rory gaped. “Rhone, you are not serious about this, are you?”

He met her eyes with a levelling stare. “I don’t think I like the way you’re talking about the mother of my unborn child.” Rhone emphasized his lie by placing a gentle hand on Kali’s lower stomach and giving her a doting look before turning back to Rory. “You should go.”

He could practically feel both females jaws fall open and Rory took a hesitant step back. 

“Rhone?” Rory begged, as if their drunken hook ups from more than a year ago had ever meant anything to him.

“Go,” he said. Juno and Freja came to him at the familiar term, facing the blonde with a silent threat. 

The blonde looked at each face in the room in utter disbelief before turning and fleeing the shop.

Rhone turned his amused grin down to Kali, “Well, that was fun.”

But she was not amused. Her glare could have burned his skin and he considered whether they’d grown close enough in their brief time together to prevent her from physically attacking him.

He was not confident. 

“You,” she snarled up at him, stalking toward him as he backed away.

“Hey now,” he said, wiping the smirk off his face. “Careful with the baby.”

Kali gave a small shirek of frustrated rage and then she threw her entire weight against him, his surprise at the sudden gesture enough for her to topple him over. She straddled his hips and glared down at him with one of the wood carving knives in her hands. “Keep your little girlfriends away from me, princeling,” she spat, eyes blazing. “or next time, I’ll string them up by their fake hair.”

“Who knew you’d be such a territorial thief?” he prodded, her scent intertwined with his in the thick fabric of his sweater that now hung inches below his face pulling him toward her. He wasn’t ready to stop playing their game.

“I’m not here to be your cover story to get your exes off your back,” she snapped. “I’m not your mistress.”

He fought the urge to place both his hands on her hips. “That’s definitely true. I’ve never wanted you to be my mistress, persay.” 

Kali leaned forward until her lips were only a hair's breadth away from his, “You couldn’t handle me even if you did.”

“Oh, I never said I didn’t want my chance at handling you, little thief,” he purred, bringing one hand up to tuck a rogue lock of her hair behind her ear. “I just would never lock you away like a mistress.”

She blinked in surprise and leaned back slightly with uncertainty in her grey eyes. “I’m not interested in playing games with you, princeling,” she said finally, “I won’t be here for long.”

“Details.” He waved beside them offhandedly. “You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you like. I know I’m enjoying your presence,” he finished with a look down at where their bodies touched a heat flushing him that he knew she would feel soon if she hadn’t already.

Kali snorted and ran her eyes over him as he lay on the floor as though he’d planned it. “Of course you are,” she said smugly and rolled her hips in a way that made his body come to attention. 

“Guys,” the trembling voice of Briar sounded in the distance. “I’m still here…”

Without missing a beat, Rhone glanced over at his friend and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “We know.”

Kali threw back her head and laughed in delight at the shock and embarrassed horror that appeared on Briar’s face at the suggestion. Rhone found himself looking up at her, stunned. None of the angry, defensive emotions that had tainted her since he’d first watched her leap over the parapet stained her features. He found himself wishing he could make her laugh like that for the rest of her life and the heat inside him burned brighter.

His hands clenched, already on their way to...what he wasn’t sure. Cup her cheek? Drag her down to him for the kiss he’d been imagining since the moment he’d caught her outside the tavern?

A soft cough broke his concentration and he looked over to a familiar female looking at him with a frown from the door. 

Like Rory, she was tall and fair haired but that was where their similarities ended. Noelle had a sweet, quiet energy about her that matched her gentle features and simple clothes. Her dove grey dress matched the darker grey of her coat and brought out the clear blue of her eyes without the flashy cut and color of their most recent visitor.

“Noelle,” Rhone said politely, as if he weren’t being straddled by a wanted criminal on the floor of his shop, “what can I help you with?”

Kali made a furious sound and got to her feet, the loss of her body against his making the winter air seem colder than usual. “I am not fighting another one of your exes,” she said venomously and started to head for the stairs that led to his apartment. “I’ll just get my stuff and--”

 

Rhone snagged her arm as she passed and kept her from stomping away. Before he could open her mouth to explain, Noelle gave a slight shudder of horror, “Rhone isn’t my ex--we’re practically related. I’m one of his mother’s ladies in waiting.” Those soft blue eyes looked curiously between the two of them before she arched a delicate eyebrow, “So the rumors are true…”

“What rumors?”

“That you have a new lover.”

Kali made a derisive noise and muttered under her breath, “He wishes.”

That was true, he supposed.

Not one to admit defeat, Rhone let his hand run down her arm to tangle in her fingers, ignoring her attempt to pull away. “Yes,” he said with a soft smile that didn’t match the dare in his eyes, “we’re very happy together.”

Noelle didn’t look convinced.

Briar leaned against the counter, his eyes soft as he watched Noelle and Rhone felt the familiar pang of jealousy for the obvious love there. “You missed Kali getting to meet the lovely Rory,” the carpenter said with a smirk.

Rhone glared at him at the reminder that had Kali scowling at him again and yanking her hand away, but Noelle let out a burst of laughter, “That explains why she looked so furious when she passed me in the street.”

“What are you doing here Noelle?”

She reached into her coat and pulled free a large envelope made of heavy paper. “Your mother sent me to deliver this.”

Rhone took the letter with a frown and scanned over the page, feeling his playful mood slip away. Kali stepped closer, standing on her tiptoes in an attempt to read over his shoulder. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he lowered his arms so she could see the brief message.

“The High Lord and Lady of Winter invite you and your guest to a family dinner at the Winter Palace in three days time. 

Attendance is mandatory--don’t even think about not showing up.”

The last line was scrawled with a delicate, looping hand that he recognized as his mother’s. Storm grey eyes met his curiously, “Your parents are inviting us to dinner?”

“It would appear so.”

Rhone wondered why the statement felt so much like a death sentence.


	16. Lady of Winter

The weight of the invitation and the disaster waiting for him just a day away hung like a noose around Rhone’s neck, making sleep impossible. If his father or brothers ever realized just who was sitting across from them, they would be done for. Not only would Kali be sent to the dungeons, Kallias and Thrace would never forgive him for this betrayal.

And why in the seven hells was he more worried about a thief finally paying for her crimes?

She deserved to go to trial and serve the sentence given to her. Maybe the truth of the spellbook’s other pursuers would come to light and he could track down those mercenaries with the full might of the Winter Court at his backs. It was the most logical solution to this missing relic of an evil tyrant.

He would no longer be under contract to help a criminal or at risk of being tried as her accomplice. He would no longer need to dodge his responsibilities at the palace and could take the new protection job in the Dawn Court Aniki was dangling over his head. 

He wouldn’t be forced to watch his infuriating thief walking around his apartment, claiming it as her own with tiny reminders of her presence left everywhere. A second towel drying on the rack in his bathroom. The drawer in his dresser where his favorite shirts mysteriously disappeared each day instead of the lacy tops his mother had provided. Juno’s continued dedication to following her around the shop and city whenever he was too busy to do the same. 

The thought of how easily she was becoming a part of his life made him uncomfortable. None of his lovers had ever been invited to his apartment or earned the trust of his girls so dramatically. He should be thinking of how he was going to keep her from disappearing with the book the moment they figured out who was trying to kill her.

Instead, his mind was busy wondering how he could keep her identity safe from those who would hurt her or lock her away forever.

He had to find a way to convince his mother to retract the invitation. Push the dinner back until after this mess was over and he could get rid of this distraction. Vivianne was no doubt only being nosy about the rumors of his new lover and getting revenge for skipping their family dinner the last two times. 

To be fair, the decision to avoid his family had much more to do with his older brother than his mom, but it meant the High Lady of the Winter Court was out for revenge.

So Rhone had awakened with the pale light of dawn and made his way through the marketplace and main thoroughfare of Kharos toward the palace. The mound of blankets and white fur that was Kali and his wolves didn’t stir from the bed where they slept as he dressed and walked quietly out the door. The sight was enough to make the stiffness in his muscles from the nights spent sleeping on the small couch in his living room ease.

As he walked, he planned the excuse that might convince Vivianne to restrain her curiosity long enough for him to decide how he was going to deal with the problem of Kali. His mistress was shy. They didn’t want to upset Thrace’s plans for him to marry Delorea--but even in his head he knew his mother wouldn’t buy it. Rhone didn’t hide his disdain for his older brother’s political games and manipulations. 

The silver armored guards at the main entrance gave him a salute in greeting and hurried inside, glad for the fires that warded off the morning chill. It made him think of the disgusted look that always crossed Kali’s face when she was forced out into the cold air of his homeland and the pleasure she felt each time she had the opportunity to sit like a cat in a warm sunbeam when she though he wasn’t watching.

His smile faded at the now familiar flash of red hair and expensive fabrics descending the main staircase. “Rhone!” Delorea called out with a delighted smile and he felt the now familiar mixture of desire and lust wash over him at the sight of her. His body’s reaction to a female his mind felt nothing for.

Today she was clad in a gown of bright blue, overlaid with a silver lace that sparkled each time the light hit the tiny diamonds sewn into the delicate fabric. As usual, the neckline of her dress was cut low to show off pale skin and the ample curves of her breasts. Her iconic red hair was coiled back in a complicated pattern of braids and curls as a testament to what was no doubt hours of work done by one of the handmaids who followed meekly at her heels in matching white dresses.

In order to keep Thrace happy and focused on what he thought was a budding political marriage alliance, Rhone had agreed to meet with Delorea for the duration of her visit going on endless walks around the ice gardens outside and forcing himself plod through conversations held over chess games. She was beautiful and kind and...utterly uninteresting.

“You’re early,” she said as she drew closer and extended a delicate hand for him to kiss. “It’s a little chilly outside today, shall we visit the portrait hall instead?”

He’d rather chew glass if he was honest.

“Unfortunately I need to cancel our plans,” Rhone rumbled with a passable apologetic expression, “I need to meet with my mother about a family issue.”

Delorea frowned prettily and he found himself thinking of the way Kali had scowled at him after Rory had left. “I’m sorry to hear that, I was really looking forward to hearing more about your work as a soldier,” she replied.

Sure she was. There was little doubt in his mind that Delorea was looking forward to nothing but her new position at court if she managed to snag one of Kallias’ sons.

“Maybe Thrace can escort you.”

“Maybe…” Delorea looked annoyed at the prospect--the first sign of true emotion he’d seen in her--then smiled again. “I’ll see you at the dinner tomorrow then.” Without waiting for his reply, she strode away with a soft whisper of a silk and feminine scent.

Great, Rhone thought with a scowl. All he needed was for Kali to meet Delorea in the middle of dinner with his parents.

Moving quickly now, Rhone moved up the stairs in the familiar path to his mother’s usual hiding spot. It was no secret that Vivianne enjoyed having her own space and freedom in the palace. Though she’d proven herself to be a capable, clever leader when her mate was trapped Under the Mountain with Amarantha, Vivianne excused herself from the spotlight that came with leadership and retired to a life spent medding in the lives of her children.

She’d claimed the solarium in the eastern wing of the palace as her base of operations and busied herself with the information her network of spies provided. Most days would find her sitting in the magnified sunlight that burst through the massive glass dome that acted as a ceiling. Kallias was always careful to send servants up to the roof to clear away any snow from the night before to provide his beloved mate with an unobstructed view of the winter sky.

The room below was designed for comfort though few courtiers were brave enough to enter and risk Vivianne’s wrath. Comfortable arm chairs with thick blankets were carefully placed near the massive marble fireplace and the large oak desk in the corner of the room. Rhone had spent much of his childhood wallowing on the wooden floors or in the chairs beside his mother’s desk, watching her sort through the day’s news.

Now she was hunched over a stack of papers and books that were scattered across the surface of her desk. Her pale white hair was tied back in a haphazard bun, with a few stubborn strands escaping at the base of her neck. Instead of the delicate silks and lace of Delorea, the Lady of Winter was dressed in a worn tunic and patched leggings that looked to be older than he was.

Without looking up, Vivianne said smugly, “I see you got my invitation.”

“Which I’m returning.”

That got her attention. Icy eyes narrowed on her middle son as he flopped down in one of the armchairs nearby. “Want to explain why?” she asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“Not really.”

She continued to stare at him expectantly until he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know that it will only cause a fight if I bring her here.”

“Since when have you ever cared about upsetting Thrace? Last I checked it was one of your favorite past times.”

Rhone made an exasperated noise. “You know Delorea is going to be there.”

Vivianne looked pleased with herself, “Why do you think I chose this dinner to invite your new ‘mistress’ to?”

His lips twitched at the knowing tone in her voice and the mischief in her eyes. Clearly his mother was not convinced by the rumors of his latest love affair and there was only one reason why… “You’ve been gossiping with Stryker again?” he accused.

“He’s a lovely boy-” she said with a smirk, “-always brings me the best news.”

Vivianne’s relationship with Stryker was one of most guarded secrets of the Winter Court. When Kallias was forced into Amarantha’s mockery of a court Under the Mountain, he’d only had enough time to confess his love for Vivianne and name her the temporary leader of the Winter Court. She’d been forced to protect that title with cunning and nerve against a court filled with competing nobles and the traditional powers of Kharos without the benefit of a High Lord’s power.

So she’d turned away from the fake smiles and wicked deceptions of the Winter Palace and made an alliance with an young, ambitious spy and would-be king of the underworld city of the Warrens.

Stryker remained one of the stongest weapons of the Winter Court and retained the title of spymaster with his usual cocky grin. He’d even helped train Rhone and introduced him to the mercenary Anika when it became obvious that he had no interest in the intrigues at court. The rogue was smart, ruthless, loyal to a fault--and one of the worst gossips in the world when he and Vivianne got together.

“One of these days I’m going to toss him in the Sidhe for his trouble,” Rhone grumbled and Vivianne laughed.

“Now, that I’d love to see.” Her expression turned serious and she pivoted in her chair to face Rhone directly. “I want to meet this female you’ve claimed.”

Rhone winced slightly. “I don’t think she’s ready to come face to face with our family and their questions,” he offered weakly.

“Nonsense! She’ll love us!” Vivianne said with a grin. “I’ll even make sure Delorea’s arrival is delayed enough so that you can sneak her away if you need a quick getaway.”

“I said no, Mother.”

“How nice for you. Make sure you arrive before six so she has time to get washed up for dinner.”


	17. Wieran Pace

It had been a two days since they’d found any information on the drained bodies that had been found in Kharos. Stryker and his people were avoiding her for the most part and whatever mercenary faction that had attacked her had disappeared from sight. Rhône had a shockingly narrow sense of what was truly legal and so she couldn’t even pass the time with small jobs that could win back some of the money she’d spent securing his contract. 

In a word, she was bored. 

Rhône still left each day for a short period of time to go to the palace and Kali had taken to annoying Briar or Noelle whenever he was gone. Part of her even wished Aurora would return so she could amuse herself with a quick fight. 

She was sitting with her legs propped up on the thick counter from the dusty floor, listening to Briar hum a little tune while he sanded a pretty little chair, when the bell at the front door chimed. Tilting her head back, Kali frowned when instead of Rhône, a young girl stood nervously at the door. 

Rolling to her feet and dusting off the wood shavings that had attached to the shirt she’d stolen from Rhône, Kali gave her a polite smile, “How can I help you?”

Her visitor was a pretty young thing, clad in a simple grey dress that hinted at the beginnings of a woman’s body beneath and creamy pale skin with blonde hair that was the hallmark of the Winter Court. The girl’s eyes felt ancient with a knowledge and experience that no child should have and Kali could feel her anxiety like beads of sweat slipping down her back. With a thought, she sent a soothing thrum of peace into the child and watched a barely noticeable frown line smooth in response. 

“I’m to deliver this to you, my lady,” the girl said with a quick curtsy and handed over a sealed envelope with a listening ear imprinted on the wax seal. 

The gloom of boredom and frustration suddenly lifted and Kali smiled genuinely at the girl, “Thank you for this.” Reaching into her pocket, she tossed her a large coin and said softly, “If you need help, you can return to this place. The Warrens are no place for a young girl.”

The messenger frowned down at the gold glinting in her hand and looked back at her suspiciously but Kali only returned to the counter to read over her delivered note. A few moments later the bell rang again signaling the girl’s exit. 

Thoughtfully, Kali scanned the contents of the letter and heaved a sigh of relief. Stryker’s people had finally identified the victim she’d found in the alleyway near the palace. Mister Pace Wieran had finally gone missing long enough for his boss at the smelting factory to notice. She was glad that there was no mention of a family who mourned him. 

Better yet, Stryker had included an address to the small flat Wieran had rented. If she could find out more about the victims, maybe she could uncover how they were being selected for the gruesome rituals. 

With an excited grin, she yelled to Briar, “I’ll be back later!”

Before she could make it to the street, she nearly ran headlong into Rhône’s hulking form in the doorway. Only a large, steadying hand on her shoulder kept her from tumbling backwards onto the ground. He looked down at her, taking in the sight of his shirt hanging nearly to her knees, with a hint of mischief in his eyes. It made something inside her melt a little to see the tension that normally plagued him when he returned from the palace leave his eyes at the sight of her. 

“Where do you think you’re going so quickly?” he rumbled, body warm against the chill outside.

She sniffed primly, as though she planned to run into him, “About time you showed up. It’s time to earn your keep.”

He scowled at her, “What are you talking about?”

Waving the piece of paper triumphantly, Kali pushed past him into the street, “One of my sources finally identified one of the bodies.”

Ignoring the startled look an older demi-far shot her, she glanced back as Rhône asked beside her, making her jump, “Just who are these ‘sources’ of yours?”

He moved so damned quietly for such a big male. It was distracting and intriguing in a way that spelled trouble for her ability to complete this mission and get out of the Winter Court. How had Kallias’ son learned to move and fight like that?

“As if I’d tell you, princeling. You’re far too interested in things like laws and sentencing to risk my friends.”

Rhône snickered at her affronted tone, “Shouldn’t I be the one not trusting you?”

Kali batted her lashes at him for a moment before turning down another, less busy street, “If you’re smart you’ll never trust me.”

She could feel those eyes on her as she came to a stop in front of a surprisingly well kept two story apartment building. It was made with the same mortar and stone construction that was common in the storm plagued city of Kharos. Window shutters painted a cheerful blue were latched tightly over the windows, making it difficult to tell if the building was still vacant.The street was filled with tall, thin buildings that looked at though they were huddling together for warmth just like Wieran’s place. 

A small group of fae walked past them, chattering about the weather and market prices as Kali walked confidently to the door and jiggled the handle with a frown. 

“Looks like your friends forgot to mention it would be locked,” Rhône drawled, leaning one massive shoulder against the doorframe and blocking her from the street. 

Not bothering to respond, Kali strolled around the edge of the building with her hands in her pockets as though she was looking for a spare key. Rhône was still trailing after her like a giant blonde shadow as she tried the back door with the same amount of bad luck. Sighing, she put her hands on her hips and considered the building in front of her. 

She missed the lockpicks she’d lost in the river with Juno. Kali hadn’t been able to replace them yet after the amount of money she’d been forced to give Rhone’s company to secure his company. If she had, it would only take a matter of moments to unlock this door. She pulled out the thin blade she’d stolen from the woodshop and considered the bulky lock and sturdy-looking door then the building that anchored it.

The building was old, which was to her advantage. Its sides were scarred and marked by seasons of expanding ice and snow and the slow wearing of time. Kali’s eyes slid over the surface with interest, marking potential hand and foothold and noting areas that looked too unstable or bare to be usable. The windows were narrow and high, marking the beginnings of the second story. On this side of the street, Wieran hadn’t bothered to maintain the paint that marked the building’s front and made the gloomy stone come alive.

“We may have to go to the landlord to get a spare key,” Rhône said quietly, breaking her concentration. He had the look that all first-time criminals had, though she imagined he’d be furious at the comparison.

“We would,” Kali said as she casually nudged him so that he was standing below the lip of the second story window ledge, “if I wasn’t so impressive. Stand right there and don’t move.”

She had the feeling he was letting her move him because he thought she’d give up faster if he indulged her. Moving quickly, she pulled off her boots and bulky jacket—leaving her standing barefoot in the freezing alleyway with only his shirt and borrowed trousers. 

“Hold these,” she said briskly. Kali ignored his quirked brow when she thrust her worn boots into his hands and backed up to the other side of the alley so she could get a running start. His mouth opened, to ask another question no doubt, but she was already in motion. 

With a quick leap, she raced forward and pushed herself over his shoulders like a springboard, using that momentum to throw herself high enough to wrap her fingers over the lip of one of the larger stones set in the wall. It was a good thing he was so large compared to her, she thought as her slight weight barely affected him aside from a surprised grunt. Kali concentrated on finding a nook for her toes and began to climb up the side of the building to the second story window. 

Her body fell into a comfortable rhythm as she pulled herself upward, using the small drain pipe when the paving stones became too smooth. Once she nearly fell when she reached for her next handhold only to have the stone fall away and land in the alley below. Idly Kali wondered if the prince would catch her if she fell and she briefly felt his tension below her before she clamped down on her shields to avoid the distraction. 

“Keep a look out, won’t you?” she said playfully and heard Rhone’s huff of amusement as he grumbled to himself below her.

The first window she tried was firmly painted shut. 

Her knife wasn’t built for the delicate work of dislodging rusted hinges so she was forced to inch her way across the slender frame to reach the next window. Kali carefully put her knife between her teeth to keep her hands free as she continued across the shear surface. Once she slipped and heard Rhone suck in a breath as she was forced to dig her nails in to the seal above her and find another toehold. The frame wasn’t meant to bear even her slight weight and she could hear the stones shifting in warning. 

Without giving herself time to hesitate, Kali bunched her muscles and leapt awkwardly onto the next frame, only barely catching the lip of the sill before she would have fallen to the alley below. Cursing as she found another painted and latched window, she braced her arms and leaned back to survey the building’s back wall for another potential interest. Her long silver hair trailed down her back like a banner, catching in the wind and dancing across her cheeks.

“Get down here thief, before you hurt yourself,” came Rhone’s low voice from somewhere below her.

Kali smiled faintly, too focused to needle him as fervently as she normally would. “I told you, princeling, my name is Kali--not thief.” It was hard to speak around the blade she still held in her mouth but she managed to convey her disdain well enough.

The growl of annoyance he made shouldn’t have turned her on--but then again, nothing about the prince should. He was too arrogant and self righteous for her. Nevermind that he made her laugh and relax in a way that she’d never done before. Or that she looked forward to the moment he returned from the palace each day and they returned to their playful bickering once more.

When had it stopped being a heated competition between them? 

Rhone was dangerous, that much was clear. He was a distraction and a player in a game he knew nothing about. Part of her wanted to trust the sincerity that was always lurking behind those blue-green eyes, but knew that if she told him the truth of the spellbook and the horrors it contained, that sincerity could easily turn to hate or disgust. Still, he was frighteningly vulnerable to whichever of Amarantha’s acolytes were attempting.

Kali continued to argue with herself as she slowly picked her way upward, ignoring the sounds of the city settling down for the evening. They only had a few minutes to get inside before Wieran’s neighbors may become suspicious. It would require enough luck that no one noticed a silver haired female scaling the side of the building. Kali knew, as every good thief did, that normal people didn’t look for the crimes that happened around them. They preferred to pretend that burglaries and murders happened to other households on other streets. In doing so, they avoided signs of wrongdoing around them--keeping their eyes focused on their tiny worlds of safety.

Finally, she reach the small, wooden ventilation window that was made to prevent the wooden shingles on the roof from catching fire with the heat from the furnace. It was a full three stories above the ground now and her muscles were beginning to ache with the slow, tiring work. Kali was forced to release one of her hands from the stone surface and dangle with just one arm and two tiny toeholds so she could wedge the knife under the wooden lip and lever it up so that the slatted window cover came loose. No one ever seemed to bother with securing these sorts of openings because hardly anyone was skilled enough or small enough to use them.

Luckily, Kali was both of those things.

It took some wiggling and a few scratches against the rough mouth of the ventilation window, but she made it inside and returned the window to its’ former position. She stretched out her tired muscles and quickly found the attic’s exit. The attic was delightfully warm compared to the air outside and she gave a hum of pleasure as it seemed to wash away the last effects of her climb. With a sigh, she lowered herself through the maintenance opening and dropped lightly to the second floor.

The house was dimly lit and quiet in a way that experience told her meant Pace Wieran had lived alone before his untimely end. She padded through the house, not bothering to search when she knew a blonde giant was still waiting conspicuously outside for her to let him in. With a soft click, she pulled open the back door and leaned dramatically against the frame. “Fancy meeting you here,” she drawled.

Rhone didn’t look amused. “You never mentioned we were breaking and entering.”

“Would you have come if I had?”

He didn’t respond, only brushed by her into the house. Closing the door quickly, she pulled out the lamp she’d found upstairs and turned up the flame so they could see the room more easily. Rhone still looked irritated with her so she let out an exasperated breath, “Breaking and entering is the least of my crimes, don’t you think? You can just add it to my tab when you decide to turn me in.”

Rhône eyed her, “I’ll have to start keeping a list.” His voice was dry and she huffed a quiet laugh. 

“Of course,” she drawled as they began rifling through the house, “that makes you an accessory to the crime.”

“How’s that?”

Kali paused to pull open a drawer and shuffle a few odds and ends before closing and moving on to the next. At his question, she leaned her hip against the kitchen counter and counted off on her fingers. “You’re helping me avoid the guards for unknown amount of time. You just kept a look out while I broke into a house and you’re currently searching said house for valuable information,” she winked at him, “I’d say you’re well on your way to becoming a decent criminal.”

Rhône looked affronted, “I’m only with you to recover the spellbook you stole and ensure that there isn’t a plot to use one of the spells to harm others.”

Shrugging, she padded into the next room, bedroom, still on her bare feet. She wondered if Rhône realized he still had her clothes and boots tucked under his arm. 

“Maybe they’ll put us in cells next to each other.”

Suddenly Rhône’s hand caught her arm and pulled her into him, catching under her chin so she was forced to look up at him. “Would you like that,” he purred, “little thief?”

Her cheeks flushed with heat and she pushed against his chest, “Let me go.”

His fingers tightened around her bicep for a moment before slowly he let her pull away, making it clear that it was his choice to do so. Kali scowled at him and ran a hand through her hair, “Let’s just search the rooms and get out of here. I have things I need to do.”

“Like speak to your ‘friends’?”

“Like whatever the hell I want to do,” she snapped irritably. 

He made a noncommittal sound and walked past her into the bedroom. She started to follow him but ran into him for the second time that day when he stopped abruptly. 

“What’s wrong?” Kali asked, eyeing the still room as the tension radiating from him raised the hairs on the back of her neck uncomfortably. 

Rhône didn’t respond, only stepped further into the room to gently pick up a small bundle of something off the small dresser. “He was an Imendi,” he said, his eyes on the ribbon tied neatly around a bundle of white blonde hair. 

“What’s that?” she asked, taking a step closer to peer down at the strange keepsake. 

“They’re an ancient tribe that help defend and protect the lands of the Winter Court.”

“With their hair?” she asked dubiously and she watched him roll his eyes at her, some of his tension easing. 

“Imendi warriors keep their hair uncut until they lose their first battle or they fall in love.” Kali’s eyes moved over the long strands of Rhône’s pale hair, still neatly tied back from his face, and felt a strange mixture of emotion ripple through. She wanted to be the reason he cut those gleaming strands. 

His voice was rough with the flicker of sadness she felt like the keening howl of Freya when her sister had fallen, “There are few who still keep to the old ways. Wieran must have been too weak to pass the warriors initiation ritual and came to the city for work.”

Her fingers itched to reach for him. To help ease the wrinkle in his brow as any mate should. But he has no idea who I am, Kali reminded herself. Believing I’m nothing more than a thief is a gift in itself. 

She forced her voice to remain light and curious to avoid acknowledging her internal struggle. “You seem to know a lot about these Imendi…”

The unspoken question hung between them like a dare to trust. To reveal something that could be used as a weapon. His eyes lifted to hers for a long, silent moment, assessing her. 

Kali was about to change the subject when Rhône finally spoke, “My mother is Imendi. She taught me their ways.”

Maybe there was something to this strange tribe. Could it be a link between the victims? Or just a forgotten piece of a wasted life?

“Is there any reason for the killer to target the Imendi?”

Rhône hesitated and put down the lock of hair gently, “There is a long standing tradition of powerful magic wielders in the tribe that carry a skill that is unique among the fae. Under the right circumstances, some Imendi can amplify other magics or powers. If the killer is interested in gathering power, they may be searching for members who are amplifiers…”

Kali’s eyes widened in an alarm. That night in the tavern...he had amplified her powers enough that she was able to control that the entire Warren had felt its effects. If someone was targeting amplifiers then Rhône would be at risk. 

“Does anyone know?” she asked hoarsely. 

“Only my mother and father,” he replied, his eyes steady on her, “and you.”

The idea that he had trusted her with this made her heart swell and flutter in her chest like a bird in a cage. It was a secret that could cost him his life in the hands of an enemy. 

But she could never let herself become his enemy. 

“No one can find out about this until we’re sure that this isn’t the reason Wieran was targeted,” she said resolutely. Rhône nodded absently, his eyes still on the various personal items that were scattered around the room. Kali contemplated teasing him to lighten the mood but knew it wasn’t her place to comfort the prince. 

The empty rooms suddenly felt cold and empty as a tomb and she reached for the lamp she’d left on the kitchen counter. “Let’s go before someone notices we’re visiting,” she murmured, mind buzzing.

Behind her, she could feel Rhône’s silent presence as she walked through the kitchen to the back door. Before she opened it, Kali peered carefully through the slats in the shutters to ensure no one had followed them before slipping open the door. 

Darkness had already fallen, wintery clouds covering the weak sun and she sighed, “I don’t know why anyone would choose to live in such a cold, dark place.”

Grabbing her boots from Rhône, she leaned against the rough brick and shoved her cold feet into them without bothering with her socks. Kali stamped them hurriedly, hoping to warm herself while he watched with a small smile. 

“I’ve never lived in any of the other Courts,” he admitted. “Which is your favorite?”

Kali looked up in surprise at the curious question. It was the first time he’d asked her about herself, not the famous thief. She nibbles on her bottom lip for a moment before deciding to reward his honesty earlier with the truth. “Summer,” she said, surprised at the longing her voice, “I would stay in Summer always if I could.”

There was a moment of silence. “You could if you stopped stealing,” he said gently and she stiffened with an old sadness. 

“Not even then,” There was a pause as Rhone turned to look at her curiously, but Kali kept her voice as cold as the air around them. “Don’t try to make me out to be some kind of damsel in distress, princeling. As soon as I figure out who’s trying to kill me I’m leaving and never coming back to this godsforsaken wasteland.”

She disappeared into the night before Rhône could form a response, running from the memories and the pity in his eyes.


	18. Dinner and a Show

The day of the dinner dawned despite Rhone’s obvious worry and unhappiness. His emotions crashed against her mental shields like waves in the ocean in a storm and made her head throb with her fraying patience. She was worried about being around his family too, damnit. His pacing and frowning wasn’t doing anything but make her contemplate running for one of her hideouts in the city.

The only thing that kept her from disappearing again was the knowledge that this was nothing more than a nosy mother’s attempt to learn more about her son’s latest ‘mistress.’

Still, she thought as they exited the carpentry shop and began to walk towards the gleaming white marble of the palace, if there was any hint of danger she would take off before they could identify or contain her. Abruptly Rhone’s hand whipped out to grab her by her arm and halt her progress. 

“Do I need to remind you to be on your best behavior?” he asked with a meaningful look.

Kali narrowed her eyes at him. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“You need to lay low tonight. If they figure out who you are, Thrace will have you rotting in a cell before dessert.”

“I’m quaking in my boots.” Rhone’s hand tightened around her arm and she felt her temper flare. “I know how to pass myself off as a lady,” she snapped.

He snorted, “You’re no lady.”

It stung more than it should have. 

Of course she wasn’t a lady. She was fair too scarred and jaded to ever manage to look like one of the simpering flowers that lingered near her princeling each time he came to the palace. For the most part she was fine with this, it was only the smallest part of her that was still naive enough to wish for a world she could never belong in.

His expression softened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Kali pulled her hand away and began to move down the street at a quick pace. After a moment, she felt him move into position behind her but she didn’t bother to look back. The guards scrambled to pull open the doors at their arrival and she only barely avoided laughing at the irony of being welcomed into the place she’d robbed days before.

Kali was forced to bid farewell to Rhone in the foyer of the Winter Palace as Viviane swept her away before she could formulate a decent protest. The Lady of Winter ushered her into an opulent bedroom before giving her borrowed clothes a critical look. She resisted the urge to fidget under the scrutiny only barely.

Finally, Viviane smiled in a friendly manner and gestured to the room, “Please make yourself at home. Rhone informed me that your clothing was destroyed in an accident so I’ve taken the liberty of selecting a dress for you to wear to dinner tonight.”

She blinked, wondering if Viviane typically bowled over everyone in the Winter Court with her quick wit and decisive personality. Before she could even open her mouth to respond, Rhone’s mother continued, “We have another High Lord visiting so tonight’s dinner will be a little more formal than usually.”

A new panic made her stare after Viviane mutely as she took her leave. Which High Lord would be gracing the table tonight? 

Briefly Kali considered running for the nearest window and escaping into the cold but, as if she’d planned it, Viviane had left her in one of the interior rooms of the palace that didn’t have any access to the outside. Huffing out an annoyed breath, she headed for the bathing chambers, deciding that she would play along for now. 

The bath was heavenly, filled with scented soaps and a million tiny candles lit to create a flickering light show around her as she soaked. When she managed to pulled herself away from the deliciously warm water, Kali discovered a bathroom stocked with a number of cosmetics and lotions for her hair. As she reached for one of the tiny boxes of makeup, she heard a soft knock at the door and found two maids waiting to assist her in getting ready. Kali attempted to dismiss them in favor of getting dressed on her own but they ignored her.

Apparently that was a trend in the palace. 

So, she settled into a comfortable chair by the roaring fire and let one carefully create an intricate braided style that swept half of her hair up off her face while the rest tumbled down in carefully coiled curls. Kali had insisted that her hair remain mostly down and after seeing the band of scars that curled around her neck, the pale maid finally complied. 

The makeup was easier to handle and she ran appreciative eyes over herself in the mirror when they finished. Her grey eyes seemed to glow with an new intense light against the dramatic line of kohl and powder that made them appear mysterious and intriguing in the firelight. A light blush had been applied to her cheeks so that her tawny skin seemed to glow and set off the deep red of her lipstick.

Grinning as she considered what Rhone’s reaction to this version of herself, she walked to the bed to put on the dress laying across the bed like a glittering river. Her humor faded as she realized that Viviane’s risque taste in underwear also extended to clothing.

The dress was made of a soft mesh in a dark blue that did little to cover her modesty. Instead, the only thing keeping her from flashing the room were a series of thin pieces of lace, layered until they were opaque. The color made her skin glow like liquid honey while the bodice clung to her like a second skin to her waist until it billowed out into flowing skirts made of navy tulle. Each time she took a step, cunning little slits in the skirts exposed the long length of her leg. They also gave her an easy way to hide a few knives out of sight but within reach. 

It was a dress meant for a heathen goddess and, she thought with a wolfish grin at her reflection, it was the sexiest thing she’d ever worn.

The thought of Rhone’s face when he saw her in it gave her the strength she needed to exit the bedroom and make her way to the private dining room. She’d make him eat his words and prove that she could simper with the rest of these vapid idiots and charm the hell out of his family. Kali slid on the mask of casual indifference until it sat like a second skin by the time she followed the sounds of polite conversation and the careful scurrying of servants towards the rear of the palace. Ignoring the servant who stepped forward to announce her to the room, Kali let a sultry smile cross her red lips and slinked inside without aplomb.

Several heads turned toward her almost immediately and she winked cheekily at Rhone. He started towards her, his eyes like a brand on her exposed flesh, but she was intercepted by a cheerful smaller version of Kallias. The male grinned at her, his eyes roving over her dress with interest, “When I heard Rhone was bringing a friend, I had no idea she would look this spectacular.”

Kali arched an eyebrow at his antics but couldn’t find it in her to take offense--especially when she caught Rhone glaring at him from the corner. “You must be Phinn,” she said with a wicked smile.

Phinn beamed, “I wondered if Rhone mentioned me.”

“Your reputation precedes you.”`

Linking her arm through his, Kali let the youngest Winter Court prince escort her into the dining hall, Rhone a looming presence at her back. “Kallias and Viviane must be so proud to have such handsome sons.”

Her laughter faded as she came face to face with the oldest of Kallias’ sons, Thrace. The heir to the Winter Court frowned at her, taking in the elaborate dress and the way her arm was still wrapped around Phinn’s. Kali stilled, as a wave of malice and a familiar evil that made her skin crawl seemed to seep from the strange male. Her stomach clenched when he smiled slightly without any of the venom she could feel crawling beneath his skin, “And who is this?”

Rhone stepped forward, flanking her other side until she was surrounded by a wall of muscle, “She’s with me.”

“Oh?” Thrace said softly, his eyes still on her, “Does she have a name?”

“Jessa,” she replied before Rhone could answer for her.

“And what does Jessa do for a living?” he purred.

Rhone stiffened minutely at her side but she let her face crease into the smile she reserved for merchants who refused to give her the price she wanted for her goods. “I’m a singer, Rhone and I ran into each other at the marketplace and he was kind enough to invite me back to supper,” Kali lied smoothly, giving Rhone a soft smile that contrasted with the dare in her eyes, “He’s one of my biggest fans.”

There was a beat of silence in the room as the others pretended they were eavesdropping on Kali and Phinn’s conversation. Then a strong arm wrapped around her waist and she felt Rhone’s hot breath caress the shell of her ear. “I just had to have her for my own,” he purred huskily, brushing a thumb along her rib cage.

Kali shivered as heat curled through the pit of her stomach at the blatant possessiveness in his tone. This princeling was dangerous, but two could play this game. The thought made a new thrill zing through her body.

“Indeed,” Thrace said stiffly, giving his younger brother a look before giving them all a brief nod of his head before taking his seat at the table. She watched him leave, torn between relief and concern at the obvious dislike he displayed for her. Thrace didn’t seem the type to let his brother’s strange new mistress go.

Phinn’s eyes were hot with jealousy and curiosity as he watched Rhone continue to run his hand over the thin mesh of her side. “What a shame that you’re stuck with boring old Rhone. You’d have much more fun with me,” his voice was playful, charming.

“She would eat you alive, little brother,” Rhone said with a hint of warning for her in his voice.

“I’m sure I would enjoy it,” Phinn replied wickedly, startling a laugh out of Kali.

“Boys, boys,” Viviane came from somewhere behind them and placed a pale hand on either of their chests, “the only eating I’m concerned with is the meal your mother has arranged tonight.”

Kali’s face flushed at the arrival of the Lady of Winter and the calculating stare leveled at her. There was humor in it and Kali wondered if she wasn’t the only one attempting to create a little chaos tonight. Subtly, she dug her elbow back into Rhone’s gut when she felt his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter at the expression on her face.

Phinn gave Kali a dramatic bow and reclaimed her hand, pulling her with him as he brushed a kiss across Viviane’s cheek, “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

Kali dared a glance behind her to grin at Rhone as she fed the flames of Phinn’s interest with barely a thought, watching his chest swell with pleased male pride. Phinn pulled out a chair for her and she sank into it gracefully and hid her grin when he settled into the chair next to her. She was forced to bite her lip when Rhone was seated across from them, looking annoyed.

To distract herself from the swamp of evil that seemed to stain Rhône’s older brother a few seats away from her, she leaned in closer to Phinn. 

“Are you a soldier like your brother?” She purred, “You have such an amazing body that I can’t imagine you not doing something physically...strenuous.”

Phinn’s eyes gleamed at the suggestion in her voice and she gasped as something hit her leg beneath the table. Hard. 

With a smothered curse, Kali narrowed her eyes at Rhône as he innocently sipped his wine. Phinn looked curiously at the two of them so she gave him a sultry smile and moved aside to let a servant place the first course on her plate. 

Her stomach grumbled at the sight of the creamy looking soup but she forced herself to eat slowly and only take one of the crusty dinner rolls placed near her that she eyed with something close to lust. Even with the meals Rhône had provided, her body was still too thin. Her constant use of magic required more calories than she’d been able to provide while scrounging on the streets. 

The food was delicious and she let Phinn chatter on and on about an issue he was having with one of the maids in the castle who kept moving his furniture around for cleaning. Apparently it made it impossible for him to remember where things were when he stumbled in after a long night. 

Kali giggled when he leaned in with a conspiratorial look, “I think she’s getting revenge for the last time I went to bed still covered in mud from training. Completely ruined the sheets.”

Rhône’s brother was charming and she found herself using her powers to subtly turn his attraction for her into genuine friendship. She had no interest in breaking the young male’s heart. His happy emotions fluttered against her shields and made for a soothing sensation against Thrace’s open dislike for her. 

An extra roll stuffed with melting butter appeared on the edge of her plate and she looked up as Rhône casually continued eating his roast chicken without comment. Warmth spread through her chest at the thought that her mate was caring for her—even if he didn’t know about their bond. 

Maybe there was hope for them. 

Kali froze as a wave of night dark magic swept over the room with startling familiarity as the High Lord of Night entered the room. She stared numbly at the fine porcelain plate in front of her as Kallias and Rhysand chatted casually and she felt the weight of burning violet eyes lock on her from across the room. Gathering her strength, she clenched her jaw and looked up at him as he settled into the chair to the left of Kallias.

Rhysand. Amarantha’s whore.


	19. The Past Never Leaves

Dark claws brushed against her mind in a gentle caress that made her shudder with memories of blood. 

Kali, his voice whispered, surprise evident in the tone. She slammed her shields up instinctively, blocking out the voice. The voice of her childhood...and her nightmares. The roll Rhone had snuck onto her plate felt like a stone in her hand and she forced herself to put it back untouched, her stomach roiling in anxiety and panic.

If Kallias looked at her, he would recognize her. With Rhysand here, there was no way he wouldn’t connect the dots between his son’s new mistress and the girl Under the Mountain. Rhone kept trying to catch her eyes but she couldn’t seem to get her breathing under control, let alone keep her carefully vapid expression in place.

She needed to get out of here.

Abruptly, she stood, hiding her shaking hands within her skirt. Phinn looked startled, “Are you alright?”

Everyone was staring at her, Kali realized and felt heat crawl across her cheeks. Rhône looked concerned, scanning the room for what had upset her and landing on the placid face of Rhysand, who barely glanced up from the quiet conversation he was having with Kallias. But she knew the daemati was aware of every move she made, down to the erratic flutter of her heart. 

“Please excuse me for a moment,” she said weakly. “I need to powder my nose.”

The males stood politely as she left and she heard the conversation resume as the doors closed behind her. The heels of her glittering shoes clicked heavily on the marble floors, the sound jarring against the headache that was now pounding at her temples. With a curse, Kali paused to yank them off her feet so she could move silently through the halls. 

It felt like her body was vibrating with a new tension and her mind’s desire to sink into the nightmare that was life Under the Mountain. Rhysand was here. He was here and he knew everything about her, about what she did, about what she deserved. 

The thought made her pace increase, her chest rising and falling as she tried to fill her aching lungs. Kali didn’t pay attention to where she was headed in the palace, only listening to the pounding of her blood in her ears and the panic in her heart. Without realizing it, she was running through the passages, dodging confused guards and the occasional courtiers. The air in the palace felt too warm, the walls to close, so she veered onto one of the balconies that overlooked the ice gardens in the center of the courtyard.

The cool wind felt wonderful against her superheated skin and she felt some of her tension ease. When her teeth began to chatter, she moved closer to one of the massive braziers set strategically around the large balcony. Part of her knew her sudden exit would do nothing but draw more attention to her background and identity, but Kali couldn’t summon the nerve to sit at that table and pretend to be unaffected. Maybe she could sneak back to her room for her clothes and take off before the dinner was finished.

She wondered how long it would be before Rhone came to make sure she wasn’t robbing their family of any more treasures. When soft footsteps sounded behind her, she didn’t bother to turn around until a voice that appeared only in her nightmares whispered, “Kali.”

Kali’s back stiffened but she couldn’t stop herself from facing the cool smile of Rhysand as he stood in the doorway of the balcony. She inclined her head to him briefly, “Rhysand. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be talking to Kallias?”

 

He took a step closer to her, putting his hands in his pockets in a nervous gesture she remembered from her childhood. “Your shields have gotten stronger,” Rhysand said, changing the subject abruptly.

“I had a good teacher.”

Rhys smiled slightly and leaned against one of the columns near the braziers, giving her space. His eyes burned into her and she shifted nervously. When the words came, Kali had to fight the urge to leap from the balcony and take her chances with gravity.

“I thought you were dead.” The words were a gauntlet between them. She wrapped her arms around her middle in an attempt to center herself as his hand reached for her then fell back to his side. “I looked for you,” Rhys whispered.

Kali let the lie stand without commenting. She knew that Rhysand had fled his prison Under the Mountain and never looked back. Her existence would only serve as a reminder of his fifty years of slavery and abuse--disappearing was the best gift she could give him.

“I heard you found your mate,” she said abruptly and let genuine happiness warm her voice at the thought. “It sounds like you’ve had quite a few adventures since…” Her words trailed off and she wished she could take them back at the pain that slid through his gaze.

“How did you survive, Kali?” his asked, voice raw. Kali closed her eyes, trying and failing not to let herself fall into the memory of her last moment with Rhysand before Amarantha threw her into the dark.

 

Amarantha had smiled down at her as the guards drug Kali through the crowd of gathered fae in the massive throne room where she liked to hold court. She didn’t bother to struggle, just kept her eyes fixed on the dispassionate smile that her queen directed at her. The Attor at her back kicked her legs out from under her so that she landed on the hard stone floor in a heap.

Kali spat out a mouthful of blood courtesy of the beating the guards had methodically performed before bringing her out and waited.

“You’ve betrayed me, Kali,” Amarantha crooned, toying with the ring on her finger. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out about what you’ve been doing behind my back?”

Tilting her chin to a stubborn angle, Kali remained silent. The back of her neck itched with the weight of the room’s stares.

“You can imagine how disappointed I was to find out that my precious daughter has been working against me all this time,” Amarantha said, pitching her voice so the whole room could hear.

Immediately, the room was filled with the shouts of angry voices calling for her death, her torture. Kali’s eyes flicked to Rhysand for a moment, standing stiff and silent beside his queen. No expression on his face besides cruel anticipation for the violence brewing in the air. Her eyes returned to Amarantha as she continued with all her dramatic flair.

“I have something special in mind for you,” she said, the dark metal of her crown glinting the light, “something worthy of the position you betrayed in this court.”

Rough hands had dragged her to a section of wall to the right of the throne, already stained dark red with the violence of the past. The crowd had laughed as the guards stripped off her bloody clothes and chained her against the gory stone so her arms and legs were stretched out, leaving her back exposed. Kali tried to control her breathing, tried to keep her shields intact against the malicious excitement that swept through the crowd at the sight of Amarantha’s favorite torturer facing the same torture she’d been called to mete out against them.

“Begin,” she heard Amarantha’s cool voice command a moment before the sound of a whip cracking against her skin cut through the chamber. Kali breathed through the pain, promising herself that she wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t scream.

She did not keep her promise.

 

In the present, Kali forced herself to focus on the sights and sounds of the quiet balcony around her. The blustery wind pulling at the intricate braids still in her hair and making her skirt billow against Rhysand’s legs. She took a deep breath. Then another.

“Amarantha didn’t want my punishment to end with the whipping,” she said with a voice that was surprisingly even. “She threw me into the pit with the rest of her monsters.”

Rhysand cursed viciously and she felt his power pulse through the air around them. “I should have come for you,” he finally said, guilt evident in his tone.

“She made sure no one would.”

There was a long moment of silence between them as they fought with their own memories of the infamous Queen Under the Mountain. Of the horrors they witnessed in the dark tomb she had created.

“Tell me what--,” her voice broke and she had to clear her throat to continue, “Tell me what really happened...at the end.”

Rhysand took a deep breath, his handsome features shifting from dark anger to a soft light that made her think the story of his affair with Feyre Cursebreaker lived up to their dramatic legend. 

“At the end of the term Amarantha gave Tamlin to break the curse, he returned to Under the Mountain to admit defeat but Feyre sought him out, determined to save him. Amarantha challenged her to complete three tests to win the heart of the male she loved,” there was an old anger in his voice that made Kali smile slightly.

“I take it this was before you swept her off her feet?”

Rhysand’s smile was feral as he continued, “Feyre defeated each of the tests, even when Amarantha attempted to break her will, her spirit.”

That gleam of pride dimmed slightly and he was silent for a moment. “For the last test, she asked Feyre to kill three fae and placed Tamlin at the end of the line of victims. Feyre realized that Tamlin could withstand a knife to the heart and successfully completed all of the tasks in their bargain,” his voice became raw with pain and memory. “Amarantha attacked her, ripping into her while her magic kept me and Tamlin at bay. I felt her die, felt her spine snap but Amarantha’s bargain had been fulfilled so the magic that drained the power of the High Lords was returned.”

His words were blunt, and even as she craved the details only he could provide, she didn’t complain at the brief retelling. 

“As soon as he was released from the spell, Tamlin transformed into his beast and attacked Amarantha will all the force of his returned power. He tore out her throat and ripped her to pieces until there was nothing left of her.”

The words hung between them in the cool, winter night and Kali took a deep, shuddering breath. Liquid dripped onto her cheek and she looked down, letting the shadows disguise the tears before Rhysand could notice. How could she explain the mixture of grief and hatred that Amarantha’s legend woke in her?

For most of her life, Amarantha had been a distant mother figure, cold but constant. Even when Kali began to understand the monster that lay beneath the gleaming crown and stunning face, there was always a part of her that craved the love she had never received; craved the approval of the only mother she’d known. That part of her remained ashamed that she hadn’t been there to see the end of the curse or to lay her body to rest.

“Is she really dead?-” Her words were barely above a whisper and Kali hated herself for the pain that dropped off each syllable, but she had to know, “-You’re sure that there is nothing left?” A tear dripped down her cheek to sink into the lacy fabric of her bodice.

Rhysand’s eyes sharpened on her, “As sure as I can be...I’ll admit I was distracted in the final battle.”

“With your mate.”

“Yes,” he said and it was his turn to look away.

“How did she survive?” she asked softly, resisting the urge to comfort him.

Rhys’ hands clenched at his side, but he gave her the truth. “Amarantha snapped her neck and I felt her die, but I couldn’t let her go. Couldn’t let her sink into that darkness alone. Part of me wanted to die there with her, die there with my mate and damn the consequences.”

Kali’s heart burned at the devotion in his eyes, the love she had never felt from another. A small, long buried part of her thought of the fragile link that connected her to Rhone and hoped for the impossible.

“She is the greatest thing to ever happen to me,” he whispered with conviction, “and everything I do not deserve.”

She sighed and let her hand rest on his forearm, “You are not a monster Rhysand, High Lord of Night.” Violet eyes flicked over to her and she smiled gently, “And I am glad to hear that you have found your light after being so long in the dark.”

Rhysand’s arms came around her then, crushing her to him and she clung to him. The familiar smell of jasmine and citrus flooded her senses and she closed her eyes against the memories it stirred in her. Memories of a male who tried to protect her against the evils lurking Under the Mountain. The warrior who’d given her the weapons she needed to avoid becoming another victim. The friend who watched the flesh be stripped off her back and sending her the only sensation of sympathy and protective fury in the room.

He held her close as the tears came unbidden. Tears for the little girl who’d been lost in the pits Under the Mountain and the evils she’d been forced to live out in order to prevent worse from coming true. Tears for the mother who betrayed her and the grief she still felt at the reminder of her death. 

But most of all she cried for the mate she’d found but knew she could never keep.


	20. Rhone and Rhysand

Rhône tried to remember the last time he’d cried as he watched his thief shaking in the High Lord of the Night Court’s arms. He was failing. Not a single tear stained memory flit through his mind as he looked upon the wild tempered female he’d known to be walking chaos in pieces within the touch of another male. 

There was a primal urge in him that pushed him toward them, but he resisted. For now. 

He told himself it was foolish to have any thought to claiming her, as he’d basically done just moments ago to his brothers. Phinn had been incredulous and more than a little intrigued while Thrace looked ready to slit his throat for the awkward conversation he would be forced to have with Delorea soon. Rhone couldn’t find it within him to regret that failed political alliance.

All he could think about was the way Kali’s shoulders were shaking and how protectively Rhysand held her to his chest. The only thing that kept Rhone still was the realization that this was not the touch of a lover. After a long moment, Rhysand let go of Kali and she stepped back from him, wiping her cheeks to collect herself. The intimacy of their gaze startled him, but it was more of a kinship in their eyes. It made him think of his mother. 

“Come back with me,” Rhône heard in the distance. A stillness fell over him. It would be good for Kali to have a place to stay, to call home, he told himself. Rhône wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking that would be here, but he knew her spirit would never settle down. She would never have stayed with him. 

Kali turned from the Lord of Night, looking off into the courtyard of falling snow. “No,” she said, “I’ve got unfinished business here.”

Rhône wasn’t sure when he’d started holding his breath, but the moment he let go he was walking toward them. He let his feet fall on the floors so they would hear him coming, detaching from his usual spy’s demeanor. 

Rhysand turned to him first and Rhône had a sudden urge to punch him in the face, but he quelled that restless thought. 

“Rhys,” Rhône said as he reached them. “How is everyone?”

The males eyed each other and Rhône didn’t bother hiding his building animosity. “Well,” Rhysand said. “Very well. Feyre’s studio is thriving. Vega is still training with the Illyrian camps and the girls seem to have decided to unleash themselves on Velaris, constantly looking for new places and new things to do.”

“That’s good.” Rhône nodded and relaxed at the reminder of the other male’s family. Rhysand had a mate. He was no threat. 

Kali finally turned to face him, most of the signs of her crying erased from her features, but he could still see the tiny splotches of red skin beneath her eyes. She wouldn’t look up at him and he was surprised how much that stung. 

“I was thinking we could go back to the apartment,” Rhône said as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind his ear. “You could change back if you want and we could head out.”

He’d nearly bit out the words. That dress… She was keeping that dress whether she knew it or not, but he would not make her wear it in the snow. 

Blue grey eyes finally met his own and she spoke with a softness that made him edgy, “Okay.”

Kali left after one lingering glance shared with Rhysand. She walked away as if she owned the palace, even in her smaller current state, probably not even thinking about asking him for directions back to the room his mother had given her. 

Of course, she’d already proven to know her way around the palace more than once.

Unsurprisingly, the tension only grew upon her exit. How Kali was tied to Rhysand made Rhône nervous to think about. Rhône had never expected to be so concerned with the details of what happened Under the Mountain, but the more time he spent with Kali trying to hide in her mystery, the more he wished he could have just been there. That he could just understand. 

“Heading back to your apartment, huh?” Rhysand’s voice held a fatherly tone and Rhône felt for his mental shields, making sure they were reinforced once more. 

Rhône nodded. He was struck with the conflict of crossing a High Lord, but this was his opportunity for information. “How do you know her?”

Shadows spilled from the Lord of Night for a moment before he withdrew them. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Rhône was growing irritated. He’d never had the time to try and communicate with Rhysand, much preferring to seek out Azriel instead. “Well you didn’t. I asked you. I saw what just happened here and I want to know why you look at her like you love her.”

Rhysand gave him a wicked grin. “I could ask you the same thing,” he repeated. 

Rhône wanted to jump off a cliff. How did anyone ever get anywhere in conversation with this male? “Fine,” he spat, ignoring all pretense and turned to walk away. 

“She’s an orphan, you know.”

He stopped. The fact did not surprise him. Still, he waited a moment, deciding whether to stay and dig through this with him before saying, “No. I did not know.”

Rhysand turned to a nearby pillar and ran one hand down its smooth side, examining it. “Under the Mountain made her an orphan twice and ensured she would never achieve her birthright.”

“Twice?”

“Well, I suppose Amarantha made her an orphan twice.” The Night Lord continued to distract himself with the pillar, as if he was making sure it did indeed hold up the ceiling appropriately. “Once when she murdered her parents and again when she died herself.”

“Who were her parents?” Rhone asked, then considered what the other male said, “Wait--Kali was raised by Amarantha?” He knew he was right long before the words even spilled from his mouth, but he waited for Rhysand’s nod anyway. Memories of the stories of Rhysand being Amarantha’s whore came unbidden. “So you took care of her?”

Rhône caught the guilt that flushed the Night Lord before he answered, “When I could.”

“But it wasn’t enough?” A weight in his chest built and he wished he had Juno and Freja by his side. He thought of Kali as a little girl growing up beneath a giant rock with a psychopath for a mother. 

Rhysand looked him in the eye and Rhône saw the haunting there. “No, it was not enough.”

Rhône let himself think of his own mother and her constant, sometimes overwhelming love, for only a moment before he asked, “How did she escape?”

“I don’t know,” the elder fae said. “I asked her just as much. I’d always assumed she would use her powers to find her way to safety, even long before Amarantha’s death… but she never did.”

Rhône’s brow dropped and a dark feeling crawled through his chest. “Her powers?”

Rhysand jerked his head off into the distance and Rhône assumed he was overhearing thoughts. The daemati turned back to him with a settled stare. “Did you not see the way she ensnared Phinn’s affections so easily? He would have done anything for her before she’d ever said a word to him.”

Rhône tried not to think of his own affections for his thief - the thief, he corrected himself. He tried not to think of the ever present emotion that surrounded him when he saw her, thought of her. 

He tried not to think of how badly he wanted her and how little he really knew about her. 

“Ready?” a quiet voice called from down the breezeway. Kali was back in his mother’s clothes and all he could do was stare at her, reliving each word Rhysand had said. 

He nodded to her before giving the High Lord of the Night Court an obligatory glance and then walking toward her. 

He extended a stiff arm for her to take and she shot him a look. 

“What? Is this not what you want from all your men now?” 

Her eyes widened and flickered with a hint of her usual fire. “Since when do you believe yourself to be one of my men?”

Rhône let a tense smile spread across his cheeks, still offering his arm. “Since I woke up in restraints with you splayed on top of my naked body.” Kali made a small choking sound. “Take my arm. Let’s go.”

Surprisingly, she complied. He led them from the palace in silence that he had hoped would cool him off, but he only seemed to grow angrier with each soft click of their boots on the stone floors. 

Kali remained quiet and her meekness made him restless. He knew that tension was building - that he’d created something hot and dangerous between them, but he had nothing to say to fix it. Nothing to describe to her what Rhysand’s words had done to him. 

They somehow made it all the way to the closed woodshop without speaking. They walked around to the back door in the alley and he pulled out his key. 

“You can’t tell me what to do you know,” Kali said at his side and he could feel the fight in her she’d summoned with every one of their loaded steps. 

Rhône shrugged. “I can do whatever I want, really.” 

She pulled away from him like she’d been burned. “Of course princeling,” she spat, venom in her tone, “or would you rather I bow and say your highness. I could kiss your feet too and maybe suck your cock while I’m down there.”

Rhone dove for her, pressing her back against the stone wall of his building, an arm on either side of her head. His chest was heaving and his rage peaking as he realized he couldn’t trust his own emotions. He didn’t know if he was truly angry, truly hurt. 

“You are a cruel, wicked thing,” he breathed and he wished he could have sounded stronger - that he could be unaffected by her. 

Kali’s eyes flickered between his, her rage fizzling just a little. “What are you talking about?”

He hung his head all too aware of how close that put his mouth to hers. “He told me about your magic.”

Her nostrils flared. “And?”

“I saw you with Phinn. I saw you toy with him, making him love you.”

She let out a scoff, “Phinn does not love me.”

“If that’s so it’s only because you made it that way,” he answered, pulling one hand off the wall to run his finger through the loose strands of her hair, tucking a few pieces behind her ear. His eyes burned and his throat was heavy. “How am I supposed to trust you?”

“You don’t,” she said, the now familiar mask of cool indifference sliding back over her features. “I hired you to protect me, not to trust me.” She pushed against him but he did not move. A speck of panic cross her eyes and he lowered his arms. “I’m fine on my own. Get out of my way.”

“I don’t want you to be all on your own,” Rhône said with a soft voice. 

She threw her hands up and gave him an exasperating expression that didn’t meet her eyes. “So it’s all about you again. Surprise, surprise.”

A growl stirred in his chest but he ignored her as she looked beyond him toward her retreat. “I want you to be with me,” he said. 

That got her attention. 

“But I need to know what’s true. I need to know if I will just be a game to you - another toy to play with like my little brother,” he continued. Her mask faltered as he barreled onward, “I barely know you so I need to know if what I’m feeling is real.”

She frowned, narrowing her eyes at him and he felt the first stirrings of an icy fear that he’d only experienced the first time he’d seen her head sink beneath the churning waters of the Sidhe. His fingers clenched on the brick beside her head as his breath faltered. He turned his head to scan the alley for something that would cause his senses to react so intensely, but there was nothing but the wide eyes of his thief huddled against the wall.

The startled expression on his face made her flinch and Kali’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim light as a throbbing heat seemed to soak into his bones, like the warm glow of alcohol thrumming through his veins. The fear disappeared with the new sensation and he let out a sigh of relief, moving closer to her instinctively. Her fingers brushed against his cheek and the feeling grew slightly stronger, a languid heat that washed away the traces of fear and panic. 

Kali’s lips parted ever so slightly. He felt a pull toward them, his chin dipping toward her those full lips with a determination that felt… hollow. 

“This is what my power feels like,” she whispered as the tainted feeling left his veins, “and I have never used it on you.”

Rhône watched her lips as she spoke and his fingers ached to touch them, to trace them. “So everything I’ve felt has been real?” 

“Completely,” she breathed, her voice distant. “What is it that you’ve felt?”

“Captivated,” he answered honestly. A breath of a laugh escaped him and he pulled his other hand to cup her face as he bent and kissed her. 

Kissing Kali was like breathing. It was necessary--exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. What he’d meant to be a light, exploratory brush felt like the beginning of something intangible and so damned fragile he was afraid to stop. The arousal Kali’s powers had triggered in him was like a fine mist compared to the hurricane of sensations and riotous reaction of the first taste of her lips against his.

She made a soft sound that made the blood rush in his veins and he growled against her lips, pressing closer. Her clever little fingers tunneled into his hair, loosing the long strands to tickle against their cheeks. His teeth nibbled the edge of her full bottom lip like he’d been fantasizing about from the moment he’d awaken to her in his room. She tasted like the wine they’d had served at dinner--like sin and every dark thought he’d ever had. 

Rhone knew he had made a mistake then. That he could never go back to the way things were before this moment. That he would never want to stop kissing her now that he knew the taste of her mouth, the rush of her breath against his skin, the feel of her body against his.

He pulled away slowly, painfully - knowing it was the last thing he’d wanted to do. He felt dazed and laid bare before her as he looked down at her with a smile that felt incredulous and wild. Her grey eyes were molten in the dim light and he let his eyes trace the curve of her kiss-bruised lips with longing. Slowly, to prove he could, Rhone traced the curve of her cheek with one of his fingers and brushed back the long silver strands of her hair.

“Come inside,” he whispered and wished his voice wasn’t so husky. Wished he wasn’t fighting with the beast inside him not to take her like an animal against the wall.

Kali blinked slowly, looking dazed.

Rhone straightened and reached for his keys once again, fumbling with the lock. When he got it open, he said over his shoulder to her, “Are you hungry? I noticed you didn’t…” The words died with the last of the fire in his veins and he felt his shoulders slump at the sight of the dark alleyway.

She was gone.


	21. Avoidance

She was avoiding him. 

That infuriating little thief had kissed him until he’d felt like he was losing his mind. Until he was drunk on the taste of her, the feel of her lithe little body pressed against his. Until he’d been ready to beg her not to stop. 

Then she’d disappeared before he could do more than suck in a lungful of much needed air, leaving him alone in the alley below his apartment. 

Rhône sighed heavily from where he sat sprawled in the comfortable wooden chair at the back of the workshop and toyed with one of the saws strewn across the desk. 

“The sighing is becoming distracting,” Briar grumbled from where he stood over an intricately carved headboard that had been commissioned a few weeks ago. 

“I’m allowed to sigh on occasion.”

“Yes, but not every thirty seconds.” Scowling, Rhône contemplated sighing again just to be petulant when his friend continued, “I assume your mood has something to do with why I haven’t seen Kali around much?”

Tossing the saw away, Rhône relaxed more deeply into the chair, trying to convince himself that his annoyance had more to do with the fact that without any more bodies or recovered information, they were forced to wait. And without Kali to annoy and flirt with, he was becoming more and more impatient. 

“So what’d you do?” Briar said with a note of teasing in his voice. 

“I didn’t do anythi—“ Rhône started to protest before cutting himself off. Begrudgingly, he muttered, “I may have indicated I was interested in her.”

Briar’s head snapped up and a wide grin spread across his cheeks, “About time.”

He narrowed his eyes at the knowing expression on his friend’s face, “What do you mean by that?”

“Just that the two of you have been driving everyone crazy with the constant bickering and heated looks when you think the other isn’t looking. By the Cauldron, even Juno and Freya know you’re interested in each other,” Briar said conversationally as his shaggy head bent once more to his work. Freya gave a lazy thump of her tail from where she was sprawled beside his chair but didn’t lift her head. 

Had Kali been checking him out when he wasn’t watching? Rhône’s cheeks creased in a smug smile that faded when he remembered that she’d run at the first sign of romantic intent from him. “I think she’s avoiding me now,” he said, surprised by the hurt he felt just in admitting that. 

The sound of Briar’s tool stopped as the other male directed his full attention to him, “Why would she do that?”

With a burst of energy Rhône stood and raked his fingers through his hair, dislodging the tie he’d used to keep it out of his face that morning. “I don’t know! She stays out late each night and sneaks in whenever I’m asleep. In the morning, she’s still asleep when I leave to go to the palace so I haven’t been able to talk to her at all,” he bit out, frustration evident. “I haven’t spoken to her in three days.”

He’d even taken to hanging around near the windows of the shop just in case he caught her walking by. Thrace and Delorea had sent him several invitations to gatherings at the palace, but he ignored them. Rhône had no interest in Delorea—not after getting a taste of the glorious wildness of Kali. 

Whatever Briar was going to say was cut off by the sound of the front door chime going off as someone entered the shop. Rhône told himself he didn’t feel disappointed when Noelle pranced around the corner to place a kiss on Briar’s cheek before smiling at the two of them. “What have you two been up to today?” she asked. 

“Rhône was just telling me about how Kali is avoiding him,” Briar said lightly, reaching out to snag one burly arm around Noelle’s waist to pull her into his side. 

“She’s not—“

“That’s strange,” Noelle replied over his weak protest, “she didn’t say anything about that at lunch.”

Rhône’s eyes focus on her with a crackling intensity. “You saw her?”

Noelle nodded, gesturing vaguely towards the door, “Yes, she said she was going to check on a few things in the city before heading back. We talked a little about the kiss but—“

He felt a wash of furious indignation rise in his chest, “What?!”

Noelle grinned at Briar in triumph, “See? I knew they kissed.”

Briar kissed her nose, “Clever girl.”

Rhône glowered at the two of them before reaching for the coat he’d tossed over the back of the chair and tugging it on. The two fae watched him curiously. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Noelle asked. 

“Did you meet for lunch at that little cafe you like?” he asked hurriedly, whistling for Freya and Juno. The wolves jumped up from where they’d been napping and came to his side, shaking off the wood shavings that had tangled into their white coats. He considered them for a moment before gesturing for them to lay back down; it would be easier to talk to her without Freya begging for pets every few minutes. 

Noelle nodded, “Yes, but she said she was going to look for something.”

Rhône moved with controlled speed for the door. She must be searching for more murder victims—which meant she’d be going to the Warrens. Stryker knew everything that went on in the city. All he had to do was look through the bars and taverns in the Warrens until he figured out who she was going to for information. 

His thief wasn’t getting away from him so easily this time. His fingers itches with the need to wrap around that infuriating female’s neck—in caress or in anger he wasn’t sure, but he could feel the thrill of the chase pounding in his bones now. 

He was going to claim his thief no matter how long it took. This was the last time she left him alone in the dark.


	22. He's Mine

She told herself that running away was the smartest thing to do. That it definitely wasn’t because Rhone made her feel like she could be more than Amarantha’s pet. That she could finally have happiness.

 

But the darkness in her knew better.

 

That darkness drove her away from the promising warmth of the apartment and the heat in her mate’s eyes into the icy streets of Kharos and the maze of tunnels below. As soon as she was sure Rhone wasn’t following her, she found the nearest bar and got rip roaring drunk. It was best this way, she reasoned. No sense getting attached to a world she could never be a part of. It would only hurt more when she left.

 

When she stumbled back to the apartment in the early hours of the morning, Kali made sure that Rhone didn’t stir from his position on the couch. He was sitting with Freja and Juno curled around him in a pile of white fur and gentle snores, as if he’d fallen asleep waiting for her to come home. The thought made something in her ache more and she welcomed the familiar self-loathing.

 

The sooner he moved on, the better. He would forget her soon enough.

 

So she made sure that she wasn’t around when he came home from whatever he did at the palace and stayed in the city for most of the day on her own. To pass the time, she focused on searching out any clues she could find about the last victims with little success. The only real link she had between the victims that were identified was their relationship to Rhone’s Imendi tribe. It made her nervous to think that Rhone could be targeted too if she didn’t find the one responsible.

 

On her third day away from the apartment, she found herself eyeing the troll-like bartender from Stryker’s gambling den with disdain. “What do you mean you don’t know where the body is?”

 

The male grunted and reached for a filthy rag to wipe off an equally filthy mug, “Guards took it.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me where it was before the guards took it?”

 

“Don’t work for you.”

 

“Well what am I paying you for then?” she snarled and he gave her a look. Reaching behind the counter, he handed her a fresh mug of ale and shrugged. Before she could open her mouth to ask another question or curse again, he was moving down the counter towards a new group of tourists.

 

Muttering about useless trolls and equally useless spymasters, Kali tossed back the liquid and stared down at the scarred wood of the bar. The murderer was getting bolder. If the victims were being discovered by the guards, that meant that whoever was draining them of their powers was gaining strength or beginning to panic that the spellbook was still missing. They needed to figure out who was behind all this before they took any more lives.

 

There was a lull in the conversation in the room and she looked up curiously then nearly dropped her glass. The last of the fog from a day filled with drinking disappeared in a crash of icy panic. A shockingly familiar figure was silhouetted against the dark corridor outside.

 

Rhone, she thought, blinking stupidly at him.

 

Rhône was here. He was standing alone in front of a room full of criminals like an idiot, she thought viciously and slipped off her bar stool. Maybe she could sneak him out before anyone noticed just who had walked in, but that hope died as quickly as her buzz. 

 

“Well, well, well…” Stryker’s voice was purposefully loud over the din of the crowd and Kali felt her heart give a nervous thump. The self proclaimed King of the Underworld sauntered over to where Rhone stood silhouetted by the door, scanning the crowd. What was he doing down here? “What do we have here?”

 

The room fell silent as the two males sized eachother up and Kali found herself holding her breath and her empty glass in a white knuckled grip. She looked around for the two massive wolves that were always near Rhone, except apparently, when he was outnumbered in a din of thieves. What was he thinking coming down here alone?

 

Rhone barely glanced at Stryker, his eyes still looking through the faces of the crowd. Kali hunched down behind a large demi-fae nearby and tried not to curse as loudly as she was in her head. Of all the foolish--did he come down here just to look for her? Was he born with any sense of self preservation? She never expected him to do more than wait for her to come back to the apartment and make a few passive aggressive comments about her running away. Not this.

 

“Are you lost, little prince?” Stryker asked with a baiting smile, all confidence with his crowd of supporters at his back. One of the larger of the club’s guards moved to flank Rhone and she watched his hand settle on the short sword at his hip.

 

Quietly, Kali eased through the crowd, unsure if she could do anything to stop the fight that was brewing but unable to just sit idly by and watch it happen.

 

“Watch your tone, you overgrown pickpocket,” Rhone growled and the crowd seemed to suck in a collective breath of surprise.

 

Stryker started forward, but Kali was already moving with every ounce of speed she possessed, darting in between the club’s patrons without bothering to be polite. Her heart seemed to have taken up residence in her throat, but her feet remained sure footed and quick. When she was close enough, she hurled the empty glass mug that she still held as hard as she could at the guard behind Rhone’s head and watched it slam into his jaw with a sickening crunch.

 

Rhone and Stryker turned in surprise to the falling guard and Kali burst from the crowd to put herself firmly between the two of them, one of her small knives pressed against the hard stomach of Stryker. He stilled, looking startled and she let the sharp tip of her blade prick his skin through his shirt. “Don’t move,” she growled.

 

The male had the audacity to look over her head to where Rhone stood at her back. The reminder of how freakishly tall Winter Court males seemed to be made her temper spark and she tightened her hold on her knife with a warning look to Stryker’s bodyguards nearby.

 

“Kali…” Rhone said in a warning tone, but she ignored him.

 

Stryker raised an eyebrow at her, looking oddly comfortable with a knife in his gut. “Have I done something to offend you, my sweet?” he asked with a flirtatious grin. “I thought you wanted to get rid of our lovely prince?”

 

“Don’t touch him.” The words were laced with a dark promise that surprised even her and she felt more than heard Rhone suck in a breath behind her. A growl ripped out of her when another guard edged closer and she readied herself for the fight that was brewing all around them. “He’s mine.”

 

Stryker’s eyes widened and glanced behind her to her princeling for a moment. “Is that so?” he asked in a neutral tone.

 

“Yes.”

 

It occurred to her then that she was claiming Rhone as her own in front of a crowd of witnesses after running away from their first kiss. But the words felt right and so damned true that she couldn’t find it in herself to want to take them back. She may be a coward and incapable of having a true mate, but she would never let Rhone get hurt trying to protect her.

 

It helped that she couldn’t see Rhone’s reaction to her words--even her shields were locked tight to prevent the wash of the crowd’s emotions from distracting her.

 

Abruptly a thick, muscular arm wrapped around her middle, pulling her off her feet before she could do more than give a yip of startled protest. The now familiar scent of cedar and winter winds wrapped around her as Rhone carried her to the door of the club. “Rhone!” she said furiously, pushing against his chest in an effort to free herself, “What are you--”

 

With barely any effort, Rhone tossed her over his shoulder and held her in place with an arm across the backs of her thighs. She made a strangled sound of rage at the indignity of being hauled away like a sack of corn, but Rhone only called over his shoulder to the information broker standing behind them, a bright spot of blood marring the fine white silk of his shirt, “See you later, Stryker.”

 

Kali stiffened in surprise at the familiarity in his tone.

 

Stryker gave her a jaunty wave, “Have fun you two!”

 

Rhone  
Rhone tried not to run as he made his way through the familiar streets toward his apartment. His heart was racing like a wild thing and his mind seemed to only be able to repeat two words over and over again. The freezing air of the Winter Court felt like a balm against his overheated body and helped center him. 

 

He’s mine. He’s mine. He’s mine.

 

Then, of course, he’d acted like a caveman and carried her out of Styker’s club over his shoulder. Even without her gifts, he could feel her rage simmering with each wiggle of her delectable little body against his. It reminded him of the way she’d rushed to put herself bodily between him and the threat of Stryker, even though she was laughably tiny compared to the two males.

 

He’s mine.

 

He knew he was grinning like an idiot but he couldn’t find it within him to care. Kali was his too now--whether she liked it or not. She’d been his from the moment he’d laid eyes on her and had proved she deserved that place the moment she risked her life to save what was precious to him. 

 

Without setting her down, Rhône kicked the heavy wooden door open, setting the bell jangling angrily. He didn’t bother looking at Briar as he headed for the stairs to his apartment only looking back to a confused Freja and Juno.

 

“Stay with Briar,” he said, not bothering to hide the huskiness that had spread through his tone before he ascended to the wooden door she apparently hadn’t locked when she’d left.

 

With heavy steps he crossed the interior of his apartment, heading straight for the bedroom. He threw her down on the bed, balancing his strength between gentleness and a bit of the fiery tension that had built inside him. She landed with cautious, wide eyes staring up at him, her anger replaced with confusion at the expression on his face. 

 

He let out a shaking breath and turned to pace through the room. 

 

The air between them was slowly shifting from desire to awkwardness, but he couldn’t stop pacing.

 

“What is wrong with you?” Kali finally asked.

 

He didn’t stop moving. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with you.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Running his fingers through his hair, he continued to pace, letting the need in his blood fuel his movements. She curled her legs beneath her until she was practically kneeling on his bed, watching him. It was like she was made to drive him crazy.

 

“Rhone?” she said softly, as though he were a great beast that she was trying to calm.

 

The thought made him grind his teeth and force himself to face her without bothering to hide the desire in his eyes. His voice was little more than a growl, “I want you.” Her eyes widened but he continued without letting her speak, “and not like I ever wanted Rory or any other female. All I’ve been thinking about since I woke up with you in my bed was how to get you back there and keep you.”

 

Rhone moved closer to her and ran a finger over the fabric of his sweater, “I want to rip off all of these bulky clothes and see if you have another one of those ridiculous scraps of lace on underneath.” His voice grew huskier at the thought, “And I want you to be so covered in my scent that no other male would ever think to look at you like I do.”

 

Those lips that he was becoming obsessed with parted on a jagged breath and Rhone fell silent, wanting to taste her. “But?” she asked in a voice that felt like silk sheets against his skin.

 

“But I don’t want you to be convinced that this is just some fling. That I only kissed you because I wanted a fling and nothing else. That this is meaningless,” he said softly. She reached for him, but he forced himself to step back, out of her reach.

 

“So,” he said a little breathlessly, “I intend to court you, my lovely thief, until you want this as badly as I do.”

 

Before she could respond--before he could lose control of himself--Rhone turned and retreated to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. Throwing on the water in his shower, he leaned heavily against the countertop.

 

Somehow, he didn’t think a cold shower was going to be enough.

_______________________________________

Hello again! Thank you for reading the latest chapter and a special thanks to those of you who took the time to review the story! Just as a heads up, the next chapter will be a little...sexy. I'll up the content rating just in case, but if you don't like that sort of thing just skip over it. :3


	23. Dare You to Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget that this chapter contains mature content--if you don't like that sort of content, please skip to the next chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

The space between her mate and where she still sat, stunned and vulnerable on the bed in the wake of Rhone’s words, seemed to burn with unspoken craving. Her mind searched for something sarcastic to say, some dare to issue when the biggest gauntlet she’d ever experienced had been thrown at her feet. A gauntlet that led to the sound of Rhone moving in the bathroom and the water raining down.

She was on her feet in a blink, trying and failing to resist the siren’s call that was her mate wanting her. Wanting more than a casual fling.

Wanting her as much as she wanted him.

Kali felt flushed with a heat and energy that reminded her of Rhone’s powers but she knew was only the lingering effects of his hand on her skin. She took another step towards the door, trying and failing to resist him. The darkest part of her whispering that this would only end in her heartbreak.

Behind the wooden door, she heard the change in the pattern of the water that told her that Rhone had stepped under its spray. That he was naked only a few feet away from her.

Then the smooth metal of the doorknob was under her hand and she took a steadying breath as she silently twisted it and stepped inside. She told herself that this was not the first time she’d been with a male and definitely not his first time but...Rhone wasn’t just any male. He was her mate--even if he didn’t know it yet.

The thought was enough to give her the courage she needed to shut the door silently and look around the large bathroom. To her right, she could just make out the shape of Rhone as he hung his head under the spray of the water, his back to her. Her mouth watered at the expanse of smooth muscle that rippled as he ran his hands through his hair, the water sluicing over his back as though worshipping every inch of his flesh.

Her body felt hot, wild and needy in a way that made it difficult to keep her mental shields intact, keep him unaware of her presence as she watched him. She wanted to run her mouth over each of those muscles. Wanted to mark him so that everyone knew he was hers as much as she was his, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Kali hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her pants and stepped out of them, leaving them in a heap beside the pile of his clothes. She paused at the large sweater she still wore, courage faltering. What if he noticed the scars? Or didn’t like the way she looked?

Kali grit her teeth and refused to talk herself out of the first good thing she’d ever done for herself. The first piece of happiness she’d dared to claim.

By the time she reached the shower door, her breath was ragged and body flushed with need and anticipation. Pulling her hair free from its braid, Kali opened the door and shivered as cold water hit her toes. The thought made her smile the confident smile of a female who knew she turned on her male.

Rhone didn’t hear the door close behind her, but he felt the change in the water as she casually turned the knob that had it filling the air with blessed warmth. He reached for the knob without opening his eyes against the onslaught of the water but she gently caught his hand in her own before he could reach it. His body whirled toward her and she found herself pinned in place by the startled blue-green eyes of her prince.

Rhone swallowed, taking in her bare legs and the presence of her standing in his shower. “What are you doing, Kali?” he asked hoarsely, his hands pressed firmly against the shower tiles as if to keep from reaching for her.

Summoning her courage, Kali let her eyes wander over the body he did nothing to hide from her hungry gaze. He was...perfection, she thought distantly. His body was that of a warrior, scars and all. Rhone twitched and she could feel him waiting for her to make the first move, to signal that she was ready for this, but she took her time. Starting with the broad shoulders that gleamed with rivulets of water that ran lower to the part of him that strained for her attention, Kali plotted the path her mouth would take before the night was over.

“Kali,” he whispered desperately, a question in his heated gaze.

In answer, she stepped toward him, stepped under the water so that it soaked into the thick material of the sweater she still wore until it clung to her like a second skin. Her breast brushed his chest through the fabric as she closed the distance between them and her hands trailed over his chest until they tangled in the damp white strands at the nape of his neck.

“Kiss me,” she demanded huskily.

The moment seemed to stretch between them as Rhone slowly lowered his head to hers, water running over them both, his lips brushed hers gently at first, teasing her. Taking his time. Kali growled and bit his lip, pushing him back against the wall and deepened the kiss until his breath was as ragged as hers. His hands found the hem of her sweater and brushed her hip bone, slowly moving higher.

“I love seeing you in my clothes,” he whispered as his lips kissed a trail of wet heat to nip her earlobe. “Makes me imagine all the ways I want to strip them off you.”

She shuddered at the heat in his voice and let her hands wander down his neck, to the muscles of his shoulders that flexed beneath her fingers as his hands grabbed the sodden material of the sweater and pull it over her head, exposing her fully to him. Kali started to press herself against him once again but he stopped her with a firm hand on her collarbone.

“I want to see you.”

Her body reacted to the raw need in his voice and she stared up at him, lost. How would she ever survive this male?

Rhone eyes seemed to blaze into her skin and she could feel herself melting, her control slipping with every moment she wasn’t touching him. Every second he stared at her body as though she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Before she could break and pull him to her once again, he growled, “Don’t move.”

Her womb clenched at the raw desire in his voice, but Rhone only pushed her back against the back wall of the shower until the cold tiles created an icy contrast to the warm body at her front. His hands trailed down her arms and pressed her hands flat against the tile in a silent command to keep them there. Then those hands were running across the muscles of her stomach to cup the weight of her full breasts in his rough hands.

She jumped when his thumb brushed across the sensitive peak and Rhone swallowed her gasp in his kiss, smiling against her lips. He continued to play with her body until she was nearly sobbing with need, reaching for the part of him that burned against the skin of her hip but he caught her hands.

“I said stay still.” Kali bit his neck hard enough to leave a mark and he growled without temper, “You’re going to pay for that.”

Somehow she couldn’t find it in herself to care when his mouth wandered down across her chest. She arched her back in silent invitation that he rewarded with a slow lick across the sensitive flesh. Rhone nipped and teased until she was mindless, her hold on her mental shields slipping until her lust slammed into him visibly. 

He jerked and she gasped, shoving them back into place with a thought, “I’m so sorry, I--”

“Do that again.”

The words were barely more than a rasp of need and she blinked, “What?”

“Do that again,” he commanded and lowered his head to her again. Kali shivered, trying to press her body against him and hesitantly lowered her shields.

Rhone shuddered, losing the icy control he’d been using to drive her mad as her emotions filled the space and fed the desire between them. He leaned his forehead against her chest and she took advantage of his distraction to run her fingers through his wet hair and down his back, raking her nails slightly over the muscles there. His fingers dug into the skin of her hips and she could feel his lust beginning to wash away the last of his control.

With a wicked smile, Kali hooked her leg around his hips and drew him to her until he brushed against her core. They both groaned at the sensation when she rolled her hips against him. His hand wrapped around her thigh, pulling her tighter against him as his mouth met hers in a hard, possessive kiss.

“Need you,” she panted as his hips flexed against hers, “Want you.”

That was all the permission he needed to lift her completely off of her feet, wrapping her legs around her and letting her back lean against the tile once again. She could feel him pushing against her and felt a thrill of anticipation a moment before he thrust into her. The sound she made was rough, primal and she felt the rumble of his groan against her chest before he began to move within her.

Falling back against the wall as waves of pleasure washed over her, so intense she couldn’t tell what came from him and what was her own, Kali let herself lose control of her shields for the first time in her life and just feel. Their movements were urgent, both too close to the edge to try to draw it out. 

She could feel her body drawing tighter as she felt the blissful edge of desire approaching. Desperately, she tried to hold off, tried to keep herself in the moment with him. As if he sensed what she was attempting, Rhone’s head bowed before her and his mouth bit down on the skin between her neck and collarbone, marking her. Claiming her.

The thought was enough to send her spiraling over the edge, her body spasming around him as her emotions hit him like a blow. Within moments, he was shuddering and gasping along with her as he followed her to completion. 

After a long moment, Rhone let her legs slide from his hips and smiled with feral pleasure when she would have collapsed if not for his arms around her waist. Without hesitation he swung her up into his arms and turned off the water before stepping out of the shower. The air outside the shower felt amazing against her superheated skin and she felt goosebumps run across her bare skin at the sensation.

Kali closed her eyes and let him carry her into the bedroom, too sated to do more than nuzzle into the warm skin of his chest. His own satisfaction and happiness wrapped around her body like a warm blanket as he carefully lowered her onto his mattress. Before she do more than look at him with a question in her eyes, he was stretching his body out beside her and tugging her closer against him.

Smiling like an idiot, she lay her head against his chest and felt his arm curl around her waist until she was surrounded by him. His lips brushed against her forehead and she sighed happily, trying to think of another moment where she’d ever felt so happy but couldn’t. 

“As soon as I catch my breath, we are doing that again,” Kali said firmly and smiled again when she felt his chest shake with laughter.

“Oh my dear Kali, as if you had a choice,” he said smugly.

Yawning slightly, she let her eyes drift closed as sleep worked to pull her under. Just before she lost her battle against consciousness she thought she heard Rhone whisper into the dark room, “You’re mine.”

And she knew it was true.


	24. A New Day, A New Body

Kali woke to a body that was still deliciously sore from the night before, and later that night, and that morning. A sleepy smile split her face at the thought and she stretched luxuriously against Rhone’s still sleeping body and pressed a kiss against his chest.

He made an unintelligible sound and pressed his face deeper into the pillows, his arm tightening around her slim waist. Kali threaded her fingers through pale blonde hair, rumpled with sleep and sex, wrapping the silky strands around her fingers. One blue green eye slitted open to consider her. 

“Good morning,” she whispered happily.

Rhone groaned and closed his eyes again, “Go back to sleep, you minx. You’ve worn me out.”

The thought made her grin and she started to make a quip when a distinctly amused male voice rang through the room, “I knew it.”

She felt Rhone make a sound somewhere between a yip and a grunt and suddenly the sheets were pulled up to her chin and he was blocking her naked body with his. 

“Stryker!” he growled as a dark flush crawled over the back of his neck.

Curiously, Kali peeked around Rhone’s shoulder to watch a curious looking Stryker shoot the two of them a completely unapologetic and terribly smug smile. “I came to make sure you weren’t harmed last night,” he said by way of explanation and winked at Kali, “but now I can tell my worries were unnecessary.”

Had he broken into the apartment? Casually she slipped her hand under the pillow and wrapped her fingers around the knife she’d hidden there.

Stryker pulled up the wooden chair from the desk and made himself comfortable--as though he usually hung out in a room with two naked fae. “You cost me some money, thief,” he said to Kali without rancor, “Gorn bet me that you two would be shagging before the end of the night, but I thought you’d hold out a little longer.”

Rhône growled low in his throat, but Kali only looked curious, “Who’s Gorn?”

“My bartender and the unfortunate male you target for information.”

So that’s what the hulking mass called himself, she mused. 

“Did you have a reason for ruining my morning?” Rhone cut in, every inch of him a possessive, irritated male and Kali felt her body heat in response.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, little brother,” Stryker said with a wicked grin, “especially since you aren’t currently wearing any.”  
Her mind stuttered and she stared at Rhone’s back in surprise. Brother?? All of her information on the Winter Court’s ruling family had only discussed the three sons. Just who was the King of the Underworld?

As if in response to her silent question, Rhone looked back at her over his shoulder, the irritation in his eyes softening slightly at the sight of her. “Stryker is a family friend.”

She frowned, “I thought you were a thief. A spy.”

Stryker smirked at her like she’d given him a compliment. “Vivianne and I go way back,” he said and stretched leisurely in the chair, “I taught Rhone everything he knows.”

Rhone snorted in derision.

Kali leaned forward, wrapping the sheet around her torso and scowling as the pieces began to fall into place. Why Rhone had been so confident in the Warrens tracking her, not once but twice. All the times he’d anticipated her tricks. The way Stryker had protected him and laughed at her when she protected him last night. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment.

They would pay for that.

Her mate shifted nervously as the silence built, sensing what she was thinking. “Kali--” he began, but she waved a hand, cutting him off to glare at Stryker, “What do you want?”

“You’ve been harrassing Gorn long enough for answers, I thought I’d help give you a few more questions.”

She frowned, sitting up further, careful not to expose the mass of scars on her back in the early morning light, “What do you mean?”

“There’s a new body.”

 

The pattern of murders had shifted. Instead of being tossed aside like unwanted garbage in some forgotten alleyway, this body had been tossed in the raging waters of the Sidhe in an apparent attempt to hide it. It lay frozen and blue, with the tell tale runic carvings frost bitten and stiff. The only reason the alarm hadn’t been sounded was because it was so far away from the main streets near the abandoned iron warehouses.

Rhone crouched beside the still form, a serious expression on his face. “Who found her?”

Her. A paltry description for what had once been a living, breathing warrior judging from the simple leather armor hanging loose around the emaciated form. The breastplate had been cut away so a knife could carve cruel lines against the blue chest. Kali glanced down at the victim’s hands, gut churning at the sight of the dark bruising on her wrists and the jagged edges of her fingertips.

This one had fought them.

She could smell the iron and faebane from the thin metal bands on her wrists and she hissed in disgust. Whoever had taken the soldier made sure there was no escape from this torture.

“I’ve had lookouts posted throughout the city looking for anything out of the ordinary,” Stryker said, a hard edge to his voice, “One of the fishermen’s apprentices found her washed up in the nets this morning.”

They absorbed the information in silence, their eyes on the body curled on its side as if it was trying to protect itself from the harsh fate it’d received. A freezing wind raked icy fingers through Kali’s unbound hair and she shivered, pulling up the hood of her cloak in an attempt to keep warm.

“I know her,” Rhone’s gravelly voice cut through their silence abruptly and she flinched, looking at him in surprise. “She’s one of the palace guards,” he continued, a quiet anger in each syllable, “I helped her find the training grounds on her first day.”

Kali stepped a little closer to him, so her hand brushed his in silent comfort. The bright bond in her chest bloomed like a flower in the sun, but remained trapped within her. Stryker’s sudden arrival had distracted her from the realization that Rhone still had no knowledge of the mate bond that remained a dormant connect between them. She pushed away that familiar sorrow to focus again on the victim’s body.

“This one was strong enough to fight,” she said softly and Stryker nodded absently. “They must be getting desperate for power if they are willing to risk taking a battle-trained soldier.” A thought occurred to her and she looked between the two men, “Was she Imendi?”

They glanced at each other at the mention of the ancient tribe. “I...am not sure,” Stryker said slowly and ran a hand through the gleaming dark strands of his hair. “I’ll send my people out to find out what they can about her. It should be easier with a starting point.”

Rhone draped his cloak over the female’s body, leaving only one outstretched hand exposed, and sighed, “We need to catch the bastard responsible for this before another innocent is killed.”

Stryker’s green eyes lingered on the covered body, “I’ll let you know what I find.” Silently, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the city streets.

Kali lingered near the body, feeling useless. Her fingers flexed around her knives and the stupid, childish part of her mind continued to focus on Rhone’s quiet words. I know her. Was this female another one of Rhone’s trysts, she thought and was ashamed for it. This wasn’t about the two of them, this was about the monster lurking in this city, seeking the power to destroy everything that had built on the rubble of Amarantha’s kingdom.

“Come on,” she said, “We need to get out of here before the body attracts attention.”

Rhone nodded. The air between them hung heavy, nothing like the wild thrills that possess them only a few hours ago. Her eyes trailed over the body one more time and froze, her breath pluming like smoke around her.

There was a piece of paper clutched in that stiff hand, claw tearing delicate holes in the ruined parchment. 

If she hadn’t been looking for any jewelry or ways to identify the victim’s identity she would have missed it. As it was she sank on suddenly nerveless legs and closed her fingers around the frozen joints, gently prying free the paper. 

“What is that?” Rhone asked over her shoulder, but she ignored him.

Fingers shaking, she slowly unfolded the water stained document and felt her heart give a painful lurch.

“Did you think you could escape us Calypso?” The familiar, looping scrawl mocked her with its existence. Laughed at her attempts to start a new life. To live in the light outside of the Mountain.

Her breath was a harsh rasp and distantly she could feel Rhone’s fingers pressing into her arms, trying to pull her back from whatever it was that had caused such panic. She could hear him saying her name over and over again, dragging her backwards into the shade of the alleyway and roughbrick. Warm hands cradled her cheeks and her eyes met the blue-green of his like the sight of a lighthouse in a storm.

His were wild, worried as he tucked her against his chest, murmuring soothing nonsense into her ear. Kali took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes and trying to focus through the panic.

Someone knew who she was was.

Someone knew who she was and wanted the spellbook.

She needed to leave. Get out of Kharos and run for the hills before anything else went wrong. Maybe she could build a home in the Middle and stay as far away from her kind as possible.

The feel of soft lips against hers made her pause and she looked up into the frantic eyes of Rhone. “What is going on, Kali?” he whispered furiously. “Are you hurt?”

“No--” her voice cracked and she had to swallow twice to wet her dry throat. “No, I’m fine.”

“What did the note say?”

“Nothing,” she responded quickly and crushed the scrap of paper in her fist. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Kali,” he growled in warning, tucking a strand of pale silver hair behind her ear. “What are you hiding?”

Pushing out of his arms, she stalked away from the body and the maze of side streets leading back to the carpenter’s shop. “It’s none of your business, Rhone,”she said firmly and she watched him flinch as if she’d struck him.

It was enough to get her a few yards of distance between them, leaving her to her race thoughts and pounding heartbeat. Kali was so focused on the throbbing pulse of memory and old horrors that when the blow came from above, all she could do was fall into the waiting darkness.


	25. Knives and Accusations

Hey everyone!  
Sorry for the delay in chapters--I just moved across the country and couldn’t write very much while I was on the road. Thank you to all of you who took the time to read and review the latest chapters! I’ll try to respond to each of your comments as quickly as possible. Hope you enjoy the new update!

Pain was a familiar sensation and helped shove back the panic and nausea of her past back into the darkness of her memories. The blow had come from behind her and clipped her hard enough to send her stumbling into a pile of discarded ash and soot. Kali staggered and pressed fingers gingerly to the bleeding gash on the back of her head with a wince, shaking her head to clear the fuzzy edges of her vision. 

Sound was muffled, distant and it felt like it rooms her years to push herself shakily to her feet. Blood and the dark smear of soot blended into a color that reminded her of the dark red fabric Amarantha favored in her private quarters. 

Rhône had his teeth bared in a silent snarl that matched the naked blade in his hand. His eyes were narrowed on the two fae attempting to ambush him, but he kept looking toward her with a worried expression each time he broke free from them. The group used their numbers to their advantage, forcing Rhone away from Kali and too busy to use his power to help her.

She shook her head again and the familiar sounds of battle came crashing into focus, reminding her to pull her mental shields into position. 

Gritting her teeth, she straightened her knees and reached clumsily for her knives. A whistle of air warned her of the next blow and she managed to catch the axe handle in the shoulder instead of her head and let out a grunt of pain. 

Instead of acknowledging the pain that made her want to curl into a ball and vomit, Kali caught the wooden handle wielded by a helmeted fae and used the momentum to slam him into the wall with a bone rattling crunch. He cursed and she gave him a feral grin, spitting blood from her chewed lip onto the ground. 

“Now we’re even,” she said and wiped away the remnants of blood from her lips.

Rough hands wrapped around her upper arms, dragging her further away from Rhone despite her struggles. It was clear they wanted to seperate the two of them and get her into a secondary location where they could hold her more easily. The first male grappled for her legs and she lashed out wildly, managing to the connect with the male holding her’s nose in a move that made the wound on her head throb and him howl with pain. Cursing, the fae threw her across the alleyway into the brick wall where she slid to the ground in a heap.

“Kali!” Rhone cried in alarm and she felt the warm rush of his power seep into her skin like the first rays of dawn.

Her power curled through her eagerly, amplified by Rhône and feeding on her pain to spread it outward until the two males attempting to hem her in staggered and fell back in confusion. Temptation built and the monster within her flexed eager muscles, calling for blood. For agony.

One look at the pale haired prince stilled the siren’s call of her empathy and she choked off her magic with clenched teeth. If Rhone found out what kind of monster she was, her chances of completing the mate bond would disappear. Something within her gave a gutteral twist at the thought. She wasn’t ready to let her tiny spark of hope disappear yet.

So she reached for the smallest thread of magic that circled the core of her sole. Her birthright and the constant reminder of the life she’d lost before she’d drawn her first breath. 

With a clumsy gesture, Kali summoned droplets of water from the early morning air around them, letting it twine around her body like a semi-translucent snake. The two fae slowed, eyeing her warily as she got to her feet and rolled a kink out of her neck. Gesturing in a silent ‘come on,’ she crouched in a fighting stance, pulling her knives free from their holsters. 

They came in a rush of violent promise and Kali could feel her sluggish body struggling to keep up. Further down the street she caught glimpses of Rhone taking on the remaining thugs in flashes of muscle and ice. Ducking the swing of a meaty arm, her blade bit deep into the side of the first while her water slammed into the other’s face, flowing into his throat and lungs and choking the breath from him.

Without losing her rhythm, she tossed one of her knives into the back of one of the mercenaries sneaking up on Rhone and watched it land with a sick squelch high on his back. She took a blow to her ribs for the effort but twisted so it didn’t land as hard as it should have. Her ears were still ringing and her knees wobbled threateningly, urging her to sit down and sleep. 

Her vision narrowed to the movement of her opponent, each parry and blindingly fast attack. Instead of attempting to dodge each strike, she let him control the fight, only shifting the smallest fractions to keep each attack from landing as solidly as he intended. Anger helped dull the pain in her head and helped her focus on the fight.

The body had been a setup, by the mercenaries or Stryker she wasn’t sure, but word must have gotten out that she was searching for evidence of the plot to use Amarantha’s spellbook. They knew her true name, she thought with a sick feeling. She thought the last of fae who knew the truth of her background were dead, but clearly she had more enemies than she expected. 

It occurred to her then that the smartest thing to do would be to run. To disappear before this became any more complicated and put distance between these manacled corpses andher princeling. It would be safer for them all, but…

But she wasn’t ready to give up on this fragile peace just yet. 

The thought gave her the strength to push awards the next attack and sink her blade deep into her opponents gullet, then again in the corded veins of his neck. 

He slumped heavily to the ground and only a quick hold on a leaning door kept her from following. A few moments later the sounds of fighting nearby slowed, then halted entirely. Warm, comforting arms wrapped around her, gingerly carding the silver strands of her hair to examine the injury at her nape. 

“Are you hurt?” Rhône breath tasted like the sweet bread they’d eaten for breakfast and his concern rubbed against her rattled nerves like the warm heat of a fire. She closed her eyes, nodding absently at his question. 

“I’ll be alright,” she murmured, shrugging off the touch and tightening her fist around the piece of paper. “We need to get out of here before more show up.”

She was halfway down the alley when Rhone called out, “Who is Calypso?”

The name felt like a slap in the face and she whirled on him. “No one.”

“She must be someone for you to be acting this way.”

Kali started walking again. “She’s dead.”

Rhone didn’t respond, just fell into step beside her and she was grateful that he didn’t press her for more answers though his need for them curled around her like a tangible thing. Her head throbbed painfully in time with each step. Although he would have been helpful in the fight, she was grateful that Stryker hadn’t followed them to the body--he wouldn’t have let her leave without more answers.

Calypso. Calypso. Calypso.

The name was an inescapable rhythm and pulse in her blood and she pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes to try to chase it away. It had been years since she’d heard it and it bothered her more than she was willing to admit that someone was bringing it into the light once more. It belonged in the dark shadows Under the Mountain, not in the frozen air of the Winter Court.

Something was bothering her about the way the mercenaries from Hybern seemed to know when she and Rhône moved through the city. The thought sat in her mind like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She had to be missing something, some vital piece of this puzzle. 

How were they tracking them?

If they had some way to know where she was, Kali had no doubt that she would already be languishing in some gods forsaken pit. 

Had Stryker been selling them out to the highest bidder? That too didn’t sit right. The spymaster certainly could track them through his network, but he had been adamant that no one was to harm Rhône. Plus, he could have easily slaughtered her one of the many nights she’d gone to the Warren alone.

A dark thought made its way into her mind as she eyed the big male prowling at her side, weapons glinting in the early morning light. Unlike her, Rhone was remarkably untouched by their recent fight with Hybern mercenaries--a fact she’d attributed to skill but was beginning to reconsider. Had he been playing her all along? Each time they’d been ambushed had been after one of Rhone’s little trip back to the palace for ‘business.’ And each time, he walked away from the fight unscathed.

In an instant, old instinct had her hands closing around the knife hidden in the folds of her shirt and she pressed the gleaming metal against the muscles of his neck.

Rhone froze.

“Who are you working with?” Kali bit out, surprised at the level of fury she felt at the thought.

“What are you talking about, thief?” he asked slowly, as if she were a horse ready to spook.

She pressed the knife more firmly against his neck and felt the muscles move as he swallowed. “You may have fooled me initially, but I’m not an idiot,” she said, nudging him with her blade until they were off the street and into one of the alleys behind a bustling restaurant. “Each time those mercenaries found me it was only after you showed up. Somehow you always come out of these fights with little more than scratches...it’s almost as if they don’t want to hurt you.” Each word fell like a blow that she felt accumulating like a thundercloud on his affronted face.

“Kali--” he began, but she cut him off with a prick.

“Don’t-” she snarled, hands shaking slightly, “-don’t pretend you’re my friend. Who did you tell about me?”

“I’m trying to be patient here, but if you touch me with your knife one more time I will make you regret it,” he growled back and Kali could feel the warm heat of his anger wash over her shields. It restored some of her balance. It was good for him to be angry. Anger she understood far better than the beginnings of betrayal in his eyes. “I haven’t told anyone about our deal.”

She stilled, her heart twisting in a familiar pain that she wished would go away at the reminder of their deal. That’s all this was after all, a deal for her freedom and for him to return the spellbook to his family. Then they would go their separate ways. He’d forget about her as soon as he returned to his normal life.

“How can I believe you?”

“If I wanted to kill you, don’t you think I’ve had enough opportunities to do it? You’ve slept in my bed. By the Mother, you even asked me to hold you while you slept!”

A hot flush curled up her neck to stain her cheeks. Shame and embarrassment churned within her at the reminder of her weakness. He was right, of course. She’d been far too willing to let this male who might be her mate past her defenses. The note in her hand was burning through the fragile facade of normalcy she’d been building over the last few days with him. Slowly, Kali pulled the knife away and took a step back, moving out of his range and deeper into the shadows.

“That means there’s a spy working in the palace. How else would they be able to track your movements so easily?”

Rhone rubbed the red line on his neck, looking troubled and still annoyed with her. His eyes were still wary. Good. He needed to be reminded that she was not some new pet for him to keep. “I can have the servants questioned,” he replied.

“It may be someone higher up.”

“Are you implying that one of my family members is setting me up?” he asked sharply and Kali hesitated, suddenly unsure of her theory. She thought of the pale haired family in the picture from his living room. Of the love and pride that shone in their parent’s eyes.

“I hope not,” she whispered and faded away into the crowd to begin hunting for answers and to put some much needed distance between them.


	26. Amarantha's Lament

Hello my loves! Thank you for continuing to read The Thief and the Soldier! A special thanks to those of you who have been reviewing--it seriously makes my day and helps guilt me into writing when I feel like I don't know what I'm doing haha. You are a wonderful audience and I adore you as would Rhone, Kali, and the rest of the Winter Court crew!

And now, on with the show!

 

The light from the dying fire cast a ballet of shadows on the walls of the opulent bedroom set within the heart of the mountain. In it, Kali stood like a silent sentinel beside the large cushioned chair that remained empty. She was patient and knew with the certainty of someone raised to live at the beck and call of another that her time to perform would come soon. 

 

As she stood, she practiced raising and lowering the shadowy walls around her mind as Rhysand had taught her. Her body remained still, relaxed and ready. A wraith in the shadows of a hidden room. 

 

Kali didn’t look up at the sound of the door knob turning and the lock clicking open—she’d felt the familiar taste of dark magic stalking down the hallway. Instead, she turned to the ornately carved mahogany dresser and began to prepare the tea with the water that she’d boiled specifically for this purpose. 

 

Amarantha entered the room with her usual flare, all delicious curves and gleaming skin. Her iconic hair hung like a waterfall of blood over her shoulders as she collapsed into the chair by the fireplace. Imperiously she gestured to Kali who meekly pressed the hot tea cup and saucer into her hand. 

 

The girl at her back was bristling with an ominous hatred, but silent. A familiar witness to the nightly ritual between the three of them. Kali felt the familiar fury bubbling against her shields and returned it with equal measure, careful not to miss the slight wave of her queen’s hand. 

 

Only once did she cut her eyes to the auburn haired girl with a taunting grin, watching her dark eyes narrow in response.

 

Jealousy and bitterness hung heavy in the air like a fog, but Kali was used to it and let it center herself.

 

She waited for the command she was given almost every night now. The wear of the spell she’d cast over the Spring Court beginning to drain Amarantha. It was the weakness the queen of Under the Mountain would never let another soul witness, not even her whore. A weakness that hung above Kali’s head like a sharp blade. 

 

“Kali, my love,” the queen purred and waited for the younger female to move to her side. As always, Amarantha didn’t ask—only demanded obedience. 

 

Gently, Kali took the hand that was offered to her and concentrated. She no longer needed skin to skin contact to be able to manipulate emotions, but it made the effects stronger this way, made them last longer. Reaching within herself, she pulled up the only emotion Amarantha never seemed to be able to hold onto. 

 

Happiness. 

 

When Kali had only been a child and barely into her powers, she’d been delighted for the opportunity to help her guardian in any way she could. She’d craved the occasional gestures of affection Amarantha bestowed on her most loyal followers. Sought out any opportunity she could find to earn a pleased smile or gentle touch. 

 

Now that she was older, she understood why Amarantha had come to rely on her more and more—she was addicted. 

 

It didn’t change anything, of course. Kali understood now why ancient fae killed children who possessed empathetic magic. Her magic wasn’t like the flames of the Autumn Court or the only darkness of Night. No, hers was the sort that could burrow into your soul and make you believe the things you felt. 

 

No shield could stop her. Nor could anyone who had not trained on the effects of her skills notice them being used. It was part of the reason Amarantha liked to keep her close. Liked to ensure that no one would be tempted to mold those powers to a new purpose. 

 

With practiced ease, Kali pulled up the emotions she’d copied from the few moments of happiness she’d witnessed Under the Mountain. A sort of bone deep peace mixed in with joy and delight. It seeped into her skin like sunlight, warm and comforting. The knowledge of what she did made the emotion tainted with an oily sheen that made it difficult to endure even when happiness occured naturally.

 

Amarantha smiled and sank more comfortably into the cushions, “Much better.”

 

The other girl bristled at the peace in her tone and Kali smirked at her again, pleased at the reminder that this was a task no other could perform. The other empath was only useful at the easiest emotions, pain and anguish, and couldn’t capture the fragile joy that was Kali’s favorite. She continued to feed her the emotions as though they were the most potent drug in the world. Pausing only when her mother spoke once again, “Why did you have to betray me, my precious Kali?”

 

Frowning, Kali looked back at Amarantha, surprised. That wasn’t right. Amarantha hadn’t known then how long Kali had been working against her, how long she’d been lying to her. Suddenly, Amarantha’s hands clamped around Kali’s wrist like a vise and she was forced to stare into the furious eyes of the creature she’d called mother.

 

Her breath seized in her chest as the familiar poisonous green eyes locked on her own and her wrists were locked in place. Looking down, she felt a new panic rip through her at the sight of the red flecked iron manacles that now bound her hands together. A drop of bright red blood dripped onto the metal and Kali shuddered as she looked into her mother’s face as a thin slice seemed to bisect her stunning face.

 

That awful smile never faded as Amarantha’s face fractured into gory chunks that fell to the stained cushions of her favorite chair. Gasping in horror, Kali tried to pull away but Amarantha’s hand turned into claws sinking into the flesh of her wrists. A second set of hands wrapped around her throat, nails digging like claws and linking like a chain as she gasped for air. 

 

“I should have killed you all those years ago,” Amarantha said bitterly, her eyes glimmering with hatred. “I plan to fix that mistake today.”

 

Rough hands gripped her arms and she began to struggle even as her arms remained trapped. Amarantha laughed, her eyes turning a milky white as she ordered the guards, “Take her to the pit and make sure to seal the entrance.”

 

A scream ripped out of her then, “No, please!”

 

A cruel laugh was the only response she received but Kali couldn’t stop screaming, couldn’t stop her panicked struggling even when the scent of wind and cedar filled her nose.

 

“Kali!” a familiar voice shouted but she couldn’t focus on it. Couldn’t focus on anything but the tiny sliver of light above her as the faceless guards threw her into the pit once again.

 

“No! No no no no no no please please.” The words were a breathless chant as her throat sealed closed and the familiar cruel laughter echoed in her head.

 

“KALI!”

 

Suddenly, she was being shaken and pressed against a chest that was heaving as hard as hers. Still panicked, she fought the hold for a moment until she began to recognize the sounds and sensations around her. Juno’s cold nose pressed against her thigh where the shirt she’d worn to bed had bunched up around her legs. Freja whined nearby and Rhone was…

 

Rhone was rocking her against his chest murmuring into her hair as he rubbed her back soothingly. Shuddering with the remembered panic, she let herself have a moment of weakness and turned her head into his neck to breathe in the comforting scent of her mate.

 

“Are you okay?” he said, his breath rustling her tousled hair. “You were crying in your sleep. I could feel your panic,” Rhone swallowed hard and his arms tightened around her, “your fear.”

 

Embarrassment burned through her and she took a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter so she wasn’t leaning so heavily against him, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

 

Embarrassment made her tilt her head away from his to avoid his expression. When she’d snuck into the apartment that night, Rhône had been asleep on the couch with his two wolves. The distance between that night and the wild intimacy of the night before had twisted like a knife, but she didn’t have the courage to invite him to bed or apologize for the accusations that drove him away. Now he was tangled in the sheets again with her, holding her like a child after a bad dream.

 

“As if I care about that,” he replied dismissively then paused as though afraid to upset her, “What happened?”

 

“It was a nightmare,” she said dully, trying to control her raging emotions. Her mental shields felt fragile as paper, but she felt some of the reflective tension in Rhone start to ease.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Kali hesitated, daring to look up at his face in the shadows of the apartment. A dark part of her knew that she could hurt him with this, could break the fragile trust that had been growing between them since the night he’d confessed his interest in her. Most of her wanted to hide in this moment with her mate forever. To give him a piece of her that she’d never shared with anyone before.

 

Slowly, she began to speak, fumbling at first but growing stronger with each word. “Five years before the curse was broken, I was part of a rebellion to try to overthrow Amarantha. She..found out,” Kali whispered, voice dark with memory. 

 

Rhône’s fingers tightened around her arms and she found herself staring down at his calloused fingers, swallowing back the panic that still fluttered like a wild creature in her chest. 

 

“She had me whipped until I was nearly dead--I thought I was, for a time.” It took her two tries to find her voice and continue, “I think she had someone heal me so I wouldn’t die right away. Then she threw me into the pit beneath the mountain.”

 

It had been a place of nightmares. The place where Amarantha stored her most vicious creatures. Lesser fae that had displeased the Lady of the Mountain enough that she wished for them to suffer. The naturally occuring cave system lacked any sort of life; food and water were obtained through vicious fighting and even torture. 

 

Only the cruelest monsters survived.

 

Distantly, Kali held out her arm, watching the way the weak firelight reflected off the warm brown tones. “Did you ever wonder why I was so pale for a Summer child?” she asked casually and listened to the way his breath paused at the implication. “I went into the caves when I was only sixteen after a lifetime being kept Under the Mountain as Amarantha’s pet--” her voice was calm and only held the echo of the scars that would forever mar her soul, “--I didn’t escape until five years later.”

 

Rhone’s voice was hoarse and he pressed his face to her hair, his long, muscular arms looping around her like an anchor. “How?”

 

“Amarantha’s magic weakened with her death,” she said simply, and traced the edge of a thin scar on his forearm. “I didn’t realize what happened until later. I just ran.”

 

There was more of course, but she couldn’t force the words on her tongue. It was bad enough that Rhone knew what he did about her past and her public crims, more would only push him away faster. The lies were a lesser evil.

 

Several minutes passed in silence before Rhone’s voice cut through the night air. “Is that why you began to steal?”

 

She shrugged, “It was the only way to stay alive. After a while I started hunting for pieces of Amarantha to make sure no one used her magic again.”

 

He didn’t apologize for the horrors of her childhood or offer false sureties and promises. They both knew that their relationship would always rest on a knife’s edge--even without the complication of the one sided mate bond. Kali ran her fingers through the thick fur of Freya’s ruff, shifting to Juno when the other wolf made a sound of displeasure. Smiling slightly, she scratched under the thin leather collar and ruffled the soft white hair of her ears.

 

After a while the adrenaline left behind by the dream slithered through her limbs like water off a roof, appearing as slow shivers and growing to teeth-chattering shakes. Rhone settled her against his chest more firmly, leaning against the headboard with her pressed against him, his body forming a physical barrier to the world outside. Juno curled up with her head resting on Kali’s leg and Freya stretched out on one of the pillows tossed across the bed in Rhone’s race to wake her.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his breath stirring the long strands of her silvery hair as she shook with remembered terror, “It’s over now.”

 

Kali didn’t respond—too long in her memory and the knowledge that Rhône was wrong. 

 

It would never be over, not for her. 

 

Not as long as Amarantha’s allies were alive and searching for the spellbook. She could never rest or make a home for herself, it was impossible. 

 

This was her fate. 

 

It was the promise she’d made in the darkness beneath the glittering nightmare of a court. That Amarantha would die for her sins and she would keep her in the grave no matter what it cost her. 

 

But for now she could sleep in the warmth and peace of a happiness that she didn’t deserve and couldn’t keep.


	27. Solarium

Hello again! I don't usually write it, but I decided to give y'all a little fluff to get you through the week. Hopefully you enjoy it!

Kali woke to the weak sunlight of dawn and an empty bed. Slowly, she sat up, running a hand over her arms to ward off the morning chill, feeling a slow ache build in her chest until she looked up to find the princeling seated on his couch, watching her. Freya leapt onto the bed at her movement and gave her a sloppy kiss and she buried her head in her fur to escape the expression on his face. 

 

“I want to show you something.”

 

Rhône’s voice was low and...shy? The idea was so surprising that Kali looked up from where she was scratching Juno’s ears to watch the expression play over his face. His face was the carefully neutral mask he wore anytime he was at court and she stood, dusting white hairs off her pants. 

 

“Is everything okay?” She asked nervously. 

 

He didn’t respond, just grabbed her by her hand and tugged her out the door, barely giving her time to throw on another one of his sweaters to combat the cold. A few minutes later they were climbing up a wide staircase in a lesser used entrance to the palace. Breathless and more than a little curious about the prince’s strange mood, Kali tugged her hand free and forced him to stop in front of a carved wooden door at the top of the staircase. “What’s going on, Rhone?” 

 

Instead of answering, he reached for the doorknob and frowned, rattling it. “It’s locked,” he said in a disbelieving tone. 

 

Fighting a laugh at his scowl, Kali gently pushed him aside. “I believe this is my cue,” she said with a wicked grin. Tugging two curving pins free from her hair, she let the heavy weight of it swing free and considered the lock with a thoughtful frown. 

 

“Where did you get those?” His voice was low and husky and she jumped when his breath stirred the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. 

 

Glancing back at him, Kali arched an eyebrow as the lock gave a cheerful click. “What kind of thief doesn’t carry lockpicks?”

 

He gave her a smile that made her toes curl in her boots and pushed open the door to reveal the room beyond. Slowly she walked inside and felt her jaw drop in surprise.

 

The room was filled with light and the warmth she’d been missing since she’d crossed the border into the Winter lands. The ceiling was a bright dome of clear glass that gave the viewer an unblocked view of the clear blue sky above them. Carefully placed mirrors and shining silvery metal work cast delicate shadows on the floor and heated the room enough that her sweater began to feel stifling. Kali walked further inside, head tilted back to marvel at the fluffy white clouds floating lazily over her head.

 

“This is…--” she started, only to look back at where Rhone was leaning against the doorframe, watching her, “--amazing.”

 

“It’s my mother’s,” he said by way of explanation, “my father built it for her to celebrate my birth. Said it was closest he could come to giving her the sun.”

 

Kali closed her eyes, trying to soak up as much of that glorious light as she could. Warm fingers laced through hers and tugged her forward towards a thick blanket laid out on the floor next to a covered basket. Disbelieving, she laughed, “Are you taking me on a picnic, princeling?”

 

“Quiet, thief,” he replied with a grin and settled onto the blanket, “I’m trying to seduce you.” He gave a lecherous wiggle of his eyebrows for emphasis and she laughed in delight.

 

“Is that what this is?” she drawled and stretched out beside him, warmth blooming in her chest. “I was warned that you were quite the womanizer.”

 

“Not lately.” Casually Rhone tugged her closer so that her head was cushioned on his chest and his arm was looped around her middle.

 

That tiny thread of sunlight linking them to each other flared painfully bright and she closed her eyes, letting the sensations settle into her heart and memories. This, this was a gift she would not easily forget. Not for the first time Kali wished that she were someone else. Someone who could stay in the comforting warmth of this room and not venture into the harsh winter storms waiting outside.

 

“How long can we stay?”

 

“As long as you want.”

 

The invitation was unspoken, layered between the casual promise and the sincerity in his eyes. Kali forced herself to look away before she blurted out the truth or shoved him away. Today, she promised herself, she could be selfish.

 

For a long time they lay in comfortable silence, the only movement between them the slow rise and fall of their chests and the gentle stroke of Rhone’s thumb against her shoulder. He was beautiful and terrifying all at once, this male she could not keep despite the way her soul begged her to.

 

“I have this house in Summer,” she finally said softly, staring firmly up at the bright sky above them. Her eyes burned, but she refused to look away. “Just a few miles from Adriata in a little coastal town.” Kali forced her voice to remain light as she stretched luxuriously, “It’s the only place I’ve ever made a home for myself.”

 

Besides a small apartment above a simple woodshop.

 

Rhone rolled on his side and propped up his head on one hand, looking down at her with a frown. “Aren’t you worried I’ll use that information to find you after all this is over?”

 

“Maybe I want you to,” she replied softly.


	28. Unexpected

Rhône spent the afternoon discovering just what an intriguing collection of puzzle pieces his little thief was. He’d expected her to still remain guarded when they were alone together, but after a few moments in the dazzling sunlight of the solarium, she’d relaxed. She stretched out on the thick blanket he’d carefully selected from his chambers and began to dig through the basket of food that he’d brought, laughing about how much meat he’d packed while he stared stupidly.

 

Kali was devastating when she was happy.

 

Her eyes danced as brightly as each of her movements, graceful as a dancer. He caught sight of a dimple in one of her cheeks as she continued to tease him about his ‘attempt at seduction.’ Some deep, primitive part of him rumbled proudly that he’d been the one to make her so. It eased the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been feeling since she’d awakened from that gods awful nightmare.

 

The thought of the pain and panic that had driven him half-mad and stumbling from his makeshift bed wiped away his smile at her antics. As if she sensed the change, Kali turned and gave him a worried look, “You alright, princeling?”

 

Rhone forced himself to smile casually and flopped down on the blanket, purposely taking up most of the space. “Just waiting for you to throw yourself at me,” he said and waggled his eyebrows at her with a teasing leer, “shouldn’t take too long.”

 

Kali threw back her head and laughed and he felt his breath catch. The sun seemed to love his little thief, haloing the silver strands of her hair as its rays caressed the panes of her chest. She was beginning to put on weight now that she had regular meals and it helped ease the sharp hollows of her body to sensual curves. Rhone forced himself to reach over her and fish out one of the wrapped pieces of meat before he was caught ogling her.

 

“Want some?”

 

A furrowed brow. “No way.”

 

Waggling one of the slices of meat, he gave her a censuring look. “What do you mean you don’t like seasoned reindeer meat? It’s delicious!”

 

Her delicate nose crinkled in distaste, “It’s disgusting. I barely manage it when it’s cooked.”

 

“My mother told us it would make us grow taller,” he looked her over with a mischievous smile, “I guess that’s why you’re so shor--”

 

His words were cut off with a grunt as she leapt across the space to tackle him, pinning him beneath her smaller frame. Rhone let her without complaint, enjoying the laughter in her winter storm eyes and the press of her body against his.

 

He opened his mouth to tease her again, but froze in surprise when Kali leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his in a light, teasing kiss. 

 

“If you were planning to use that to shut me up, it’s not working,” Rhone whispered , his voice huskier than it had been. 

 

“Then let me try again.”

 

A knock sounded on the door of the solarium just as her warm breath touched his lips and Rhône growled in frustration, a ripple of frost ringing him in response to the distraction. 

 

“What?” He barked. 

 

The door knob rattle and Kali disappeared from under his hands like smoke. Clenching his fists, Rhone glanced towards the small closet door closing silently as a liveried servant entered the room, looking nervous.

 

“What do you want?” he growled with barely leashed patience.

 

The servant bowed and the tremor to his voice made some of Rhone’s anger ease. “I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, but your father has summoned you on urgent business to his library.”

 

His good mood vanished in an instance and he got to his feet, the food forgotten. Glancing longingly towards the blanket and closet nearby, he sighed and started for the door. When the servant started to clean up the room, Rhone waved him off, “Don’t bother with that now--I’ll pick it up later.”

 

As he made his way down the familiar stairs towards his father’s study, Rhone spared a few prayers to the Mother that Kali would take the hint and head back to the apartment where it was safe for her. He was beginning to sense when she was nearby and had the sneaking suspicion that she planned to follow him into this meeting. The thought was enough to make him increase his speed--maybe he could finish this and head back to the solarium to see where the afternoon could take him.

 

Voices echoed out into the hallway from beneath the closed door of Kallias’ study and he winced at the familiar sound of Thrace.

 

“--can’t assume these rumors are true!”

 

“We cannot continue to ignore this threat,” came Kallias’ cool voice and Rhone knocked once before entering the large study.

 

His older brother paced next to the crackling fire in the large marble fireplace set against the wall. Gleaming wooden panels reflected its light and the weak sunlight that trickled into the room from the large bay windows and french doors leading to the High Lord’s private balcony. Phinn was sitting on the large desk that took up the majority of one end of the long, narrow room, toying with a glass paperweight and trying not to attract the attention of the two arguing males.

 

Kallias scrubbed a hand through his white hair, looking frustrated. Some of that tension on his face eased when Vivianne leaned over to take his hand in a soothing gesture.

 

“Our sources have confirmed a large scouting party moving from the edges of Summer into Winter,” she said calmly, nodding to Rhone as he settled onto the chair next to hers. “Tarquin also received similar reports.”

 

“Delorea has given no reason for Hybern to--” Thrace began, but Vivianne interrupted with a hint of temper in her voice, “A lady of Hybern has misled the people of Prythian before.”

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

The reminder of Amarantha felt raw against the memories of Kali’s terrified pleading only last night. A long moment of silence fell on the room until Kallias cleared his throat and looked to Rhone, “I want you to take a small group of soldiers and scout out these rumors, see if there’s any merit to them.” Thrace looked annoyed, but remained silent. His father nodded to Phinn, “And take your brother with you--the maids could use a break.”

 

Kallias waved off Phinn’s protest with a brisk gesture and Rhone sighed, trying not to look too frustrated when his mother was watching him. Maybe he could con Stryker into watching Kali for a few days while he was out with the scouting party.

 

Thrace and Phinn headed towards the door, arguing among themselves, but Rhone hung back, a memory nagging at him. Vivianne glanced at the two remaining males in the room for a moment before heading towards the door to try to cajol Thrace into being in a better mood. Kallias walked over to his chair behind his desk and took a deep breath before looking up curiously at Rhone, hovering near the door.

 

“Did you need something?” the High Lord asked gently.

 

“I, um--” Rhone scrubbed his hand through his hair in an unintended mirror of his father’s earlier gesture, “--I had a question.”

 

“About what?”

 

“About Under the Mountain.” Kallias looked up at him sharply and Rhone resisted the urge to wince at the pain in those pale blue eyes. It was almost as if mentioning the place and its ruler brought horrors back to life.

 

“What did you want to know?”

 

Rhone was glad that his father had never been the type of male to keep secrets from his sons. That he valued their opinions and proved a patient listener as they grew up. He settled into the chair closest to his father’s desk as he had hundreds of times before and chose his words carefully. “Did anyone ever attempt to rebel against her?”

 

Kallias frowned and leaned back in his chair, toying with the pen and parchment in front of his as he sorted through memories. As old as he was, this could take seconds or many long minutes and Rhone had begun to settle more comfortably in his chair when his father began to speak.

 

“There were many attempts to fight against her foul magic, but none were successful,” Kallias began, his voice falling into the rhythm of a storyteller. “Ten years after Amarantha’s curse settled in like a disease among our kind, three of the High Lords attempted to rebel against her using their alliance with the Children of the Blessed--” he said softly and the guilt in his voice was enough for Rhone to guess that his father had not joined in the attempt. “--Nostrus, High Lord of Summer, and his wife Aine were blamed for the attempt. Amarantha feared that we would join together against her and find a way to break her hold over us with sheer numbers. So...she decided to make an example of each of the leaders.”

 

Rhone realized he was holding his breath, as if that could stop the horrible truth of these words. At what they could mean for the tiny female who seemed to rest permanently in his thoughts.

 

“Amarantha called for a meeting of all those Under the Mountain to witness the punishment of Nostrus and Aine. We all hoped that she would just kill them quickly, but Aine…” Kallias’ voice broke and Rhone turned to look when his mother began to speak for him from the opened door.

 

“Aine was pregnant,” she said quietly, her eyes focused on her husband in a way that told Rhone they were communicating through their bond.

 

Rhone swallowed hard, the horror of his father’s memories trickling into the present like a dark cloud.

 

“Amarantha cut her baby from her body while Nostrus was forced to watch,” Kallias said grimly, body taut as a bowstring. “Then she killed them both. That was...the last rebellion for many years.”

 

“And the baby?” Rhone forced himself to ask.

 

Kallias shook his head, “I don’t know. I hope it died before…”

 

Vivianne swept forward and wrapped her arms around her mate, whispering softly. Feeling guilty, Rhone stood and let himself out of the room and shut the door quietly behind him, his mind whirling.

 

He should be thinking about organizing a decent group of scouts and supplies. Or why Thrace seemed to be see convinced Hybern wasn’t acting against their Court even with news of soldiers moving in their lands. But all he could think about were Rhysand’s words. 

 

“Amarantha made her an orphan twice. Once when she murdered her parents and again when she died herself.”

 

It had to be a coincidence. Surely there were more than a few Summer fae murdered Under the Mountain. Kali’s parents could be any number of Amarantha’s victims.

 

Rhone was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the familiar sounds of gentle fabric and feminine steps until he nearly ran headlong into Delorea and her maids. He muttered an apology and made to move around her, but a soft white hand curled around his bicep, forcing him to turn to face her or pull roughly away. “Rhone,” Delorea purred and smiled prettily at him, “it’s been too long.”

 

A rush of heat curled through his stomach and spread through his limbs, his breath beginning to come unevenly and chasing away his thoughts of Amarantha and her violent connection to Kali. His blood felt molten and sluggish as he looked down at her, speechless. The desire he felt for her didn’t make sense. She was nothing like the jaded thief that seemed to occupy his every waking thought, but his body reacted to her like she was a potent aphrodisiac. Until rational thought became difficult.

 

“I’ve been looking for you,” she continued, not releasing his arm. Her maids tittered behind their hands and quickly scurried away, leaving him alone with the lady of Hybern. There was a note in her voice that made something in him shift nervously, but he couldn’t summon the will to consider it. Not when she was pulling him into one of the unused rooms in the corridor.

 

Her breath fanned against his face, smelling like the sweet cakes served between meals, and making him want to back away again, but another wave of heat made him hesitate.

 

“Why are you avoiding this?” Delorea asked with a frown. “Don’t you feel it?”

 

“Feel what?” he managed, backing towards the door and finding it securely locked. The scent of lilies and other hot house flowers filled the room in a pungent wave.

 

“The bond between us.”

 

Rhone froze, surprise dimming his body’s interest. “What bond?”

 

Delorea frowned and he felt his heart give a painful lurch at the sadness in her blue eyes. “Our bond,” she said again. “Surely you’ve felt our connection--” her hand trailed over his chest to rest over his heart and she smiled at the racing rhythm, “--our chemistry.”

 

He took a deliberate step back so he was out of her reach and wrapped his hand around the door’s handle, prepared to break it open if need be. The distance from her helped clear his head, but the scent of her perfume made him feel weak, nauseous even.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked distractedly.

 

“You’re my mate, Rhone,” Delorea whispered and Rhone felt his hand drop from the door.

 

Dun dun dun!! Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Sorry it took a little longer to publish--my muse likes to hide when I need her. :) Please leave a review if you're enjoying the story so far and let me know what you think!


	29. You're Not Leaving Me Behind

Kali carefully made her way to the earth from her precarious position atop one of the polar bear statues clinging to the balcony’s edge outside Kallias’ library. The ice made each movement dangerous and it took all of her concentration to keep from plummeting to her death on the stone path below.

The thought of what these soldiers moving towards Kharos could mean made her want to disappear and run for one of her safe houses. She should just toss Amarantha’s book and run before this situation got any more dangerous, but...Kali wasn’t ready to leave him.

Already she missed the sunny warmth of the solarium and Rhone’s laughter. A stupid grin seemed plastered to her face at the thought.

Kindness was rare enough in her world that she carried each moment close to her heart, cherishing it like some did the finest jewels or wine. The bond within her soul was still without the final link, but it danced and glowed like the sun. 

Maybe there was hope.

The thought sobered her as she wiggled down a drain pipe and gracefully leapt over to one of the massive cedar trees that ringed the ice garden. She paused there as a trio of guards walked past, discussing the lunch menu with eager expressions. Once they were out of sight, she shimmied down the tree and dropped down to the frozen earth. 

A soft panting noise made her freeze, her mind racing to the massive white bears that patrolled the palace grounds. Slowly, arms raised in a placating gesture, she pivoted and let out a breath of frustration.

Juno and Freya gave her wolfish grins and wagged their tails happily at the sight of her--clearly pleased with their trick.

Narrowing her eyes, Kali put her hands on her hips. “Very funny.”

Freya broke first, her body wiggling with excitement as she rubbed up against Kali’s legs. Eventually Kali gave in and rubbed their soft fur, unable to stay mad when they were so happy to see her. “Let’s go home,” she murmured and began to walk towards the main entrance, willing to bet no one would stop her with the princeling’s prized wolves at her side.

The day seemed brighter than others, even with dark clouds edging the horizon, warning of storms to come. Kali made her way back to the apartment with a spring in her step, happiness like an unfamiliar cloak around her. For once, the beat of other fae’s emotions didn’t feel like blows against her consciousness as she walked through the marketplace.

The smell of familiar fruits drew her to a vendor at the edge of the market, her dark skin creasing in a welcoming smile. Kali ran her hands over the bright fruits, a luxury in this frozen climate. Her mouth watered and she reached into her pocket, hesitantly closing her fingers around the small purse there.

“You can’t keep pickpocketing every time you want something, thief,” Rhone had told her when he slipped the purse into her pocket a few days before, “I’d hate to have to bail you out of prison.”

Now she ran her fingers over the worn leather, feeling the shape of the coins within. Though her pride was ruffled at the thought of continuing to be in Rhone’s debt, it was tempting. Perhaps if she got him a few pieces it wouldn’t feel so wrong.

Smiling, she began to make her selections and fished out the appropriate coins.

“You have expensive taste--” a familiar voice drifted from nearby, making her look up with a scowl as Stryker continued, “--although I guess that’s not surprising for a thief.”

The vendor frowned, looking nervously between them and Kali sent a soothing note of energy towards her. “He’s just joking,” she murmured with an apologetic smile.

That smile disappeared as she hauled the King of Warrens away from the stall by his arm. Once they were out of earshot, she whirled on him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Keeping you company, of course,” Stryker replied with a lazy grin.

“Did Rhone send you? I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m actually here for him,” he said, gesturing for her to walk with him towards the apartment. “I just happened to see you walk by.”

Kali told herself she wasn’t still annoyed at the spymaster for misleading her with Rhone in the Warrens. The reminder of the way she’d claimed the princeling in front of all those witnesses made her blush furiously. It was clear Rhone had never been in any kind of danger that night and she’d embarrassed herself for nothing.

“He’s still at the palace.” Her voice and pace remained clipped, even when they reached the front door and she dug around for her key.

Stryker sighed. “You’re not still mad at me about Rhone, are you? It was just a bit of fun,” he batted his eyelashes at her in a decent impersonation of Freya’s begging face.

She shot him a look and walked into the apartment, dropping the bag of fruit on the massive table. Mimicking Rhone’s habits, she tossed a few logs in the fireplace and set about warming up the space while Stryker settled into one of the kitchen chairs and watched her work, fishing out a weathered deck of cards and playing with them idly. Eventually she was forced to stop pretending to stroke the fire and wandered back into the kitchens, feeling uncomfortable with the male in a space she was beginning to feel possessive of.

The lanky male rested his arms on the table and let out a dramatic sigh. “We could be good friends, you know,” he weedled, “I have all sorts of information you might like.”

Curiosity piqued, Kali leaned against the counter with an orange in one hand, considering the offer. “Such as?”

“I have all sorts of embarrassing stories about Rhone,” Stryker replied with a mischievous grin, cards moving in a complicated pattern.

“Oh really?”

“But, like everything worthwhile, they come with a price.”

Kali’s eyebrows rose and she settled into the chair across from him. “What do you want? Money? Jewels?”

“Information and favors are always valuable for someone like me.”

She grinned, her gaze on the cards shuffling in his dexterous hands. “Why don’t we play for it?”

 

Green eyes sharpened with interest. “Oh?”

“Winner gets one favor or can ask one question and the loser must answer truthfully.”

“What kind of game shall we play?”

“I’ll let you choose,” she said easily, waving a hand dismissively, “you’re the owner of gambling den after all.”

Stryker leaned forward, a dare in his eyes, “Excellent. Ever played Thief’s Gamble?”

“Of course.”

“I prefer to play with a unique set of penalties for the losers…”

 

An hour later, Kali looked over her cards thoughtfully, not really paying attention to the images on the paper as much as she did the emotions trickling over from the male across from her. Juno’s head was a warm weight against her bare feet and helped anchor herself against the tide of her magic.

Stryker was an excellent card player. Unfortunately, even with a carefully expressionless face, he had no chance of hiding his reactions to what he was dealt.

The first game she’d let him win, feigning irritation when she was forced to pull off her boots and agree to answer one question. His insistence that each time one of the lost, they were required to take off an item of clothing was amusing to say the least. Inwardly she’d grinned at the ‘unique penalty’ Stryker was so proud of. 

She’d make him regret it.

Kali won the next three hands easily, waiting for the spike of adrenaline or annoyance that signaled he had a good or bad hand. His competitiveness became apparent after each loss, but he kept his word and shucked a piece of clothing with a wink. Talking became easier as they fell into the rhythm of the game and Kali was surprised to find herself relaxing with the incorrigible male. 

Stryker produced a flask from his jacket and they passed it back and forth good naturedly. The warmth of the liquor seemed to settle into her bones and made it easier to admit defeat in the fourth hand.

“Looks like I win again!” Stryker crowed and Kali’s lips twitched at his gleeful dance.

“Don’t get too excited--” she said primly as she tossed Rhone’s sweater onto the growing pile of clothing, “--I intend to destroy you in the next round.”

The cooler air felt good against her skin and she took another drink from his flask, enjoying the burn as it went down her throat. Stryker gathered the discarded cards and began to shuffle again, clearly unbothered by his missing shirt, shoes, jacket, and socks. His speech was beginning to slur from the alcohol and she could feel the echo of her own buzz in his emotions.

“What are you doing here in Summer?” he asked abruptly, eyes on the cards.

“What?”

Stryker’s gaze was surprisingly shrewd when he looked up and she blinked. “What are you doing here?”

She swallowed and smiled weakly, trying to reclaim the easy atmosphere. “Are you using one of your questions?”

“Yes. Tell me the truth.”

Kali hesitated, suddenly unsure if she was the one taking advantage of this game. She toyed with her braid, removing the tie and carding her fingers through the strands to buy herself some time. “I’m here to retrieve the spellbook,” she finally said.

“What do you want with it?”

“I need to destroy it...before someone uses her magic.” The words dropped like stones into the pit of her stomach and she reached for the flask again to get rid of the acrid taste.

Stryker was silent for a long moment, tracing the faded picture of a red queen with his finger. His emotions shifted wildly from suspicion to curiosity to worry, leaving her unsure of what to expect. Finally he met her gaze again, “What do you want with Rhone?”

Kali opened her mouth, then closed it again, suddenly unsure. What did she want with Rhone? Even after they’d slept together, he’d shown no sign of feeling the mating bond that seemed to itch beneath her skin each time she looked at him. Maybe she was just hurting herself in the long run staying here.

She looked around the apartment that had become her home in the short time she’d been here. Freya was snoring softly on the couch, curled on top of the blanket Rhone had left there. Through the slightly ajar bedroom door, the sheets were still rumpled from the night before and she felt that happy warmth grow in her chest at the reminder of how protectively Rhone had held her. He was good and kind and she knew she didn’t deserve him.

But gods did she want him.

Weakly, she attempted to look cocky to Stryker, snagging the cards and reshuffling them quickly. “Nice try, but I already answered the two questions I owed you.”

He was silent for long enough that she risked looking up from the cards, surprised to see sympathy in his forest green eyes. “Damn girl, you’ve already got it bad,” he sighed.

Kali opened her mouth to protest, but the sound of the door opening had her standing up nervously. Juno and Freya gave a joyful bark and rushed to the door in a flurry of white fur and wagging tails. Rhone walked in looking tired, his smile of greeting shifting into confusion then fury.

“What the hell is going on here?” Rhone’s voice was little more than a growl as he took in the sight of her standing shirtless in her thin undershirt next to Stryker grinning in only his pants.

She made a placating sound, but Stryker answered for her, “Your lovely little roommate is hustling me in Thieves Gamble.”

“Is she now?” Rhone rumbled, sounding slightly mollified at the title Stryker had given her. Kali blushed and wrapped her arms around her middle to keep from reaching out for him. He gave her a proud smile. “I expect nothing less from the best thief in Prythian.”

“In the world,” she corrected with a humble smile and bat of her eyelashes.

Rhone laughed and some of that terrible sadness that was clinging to him ebbed away. He settled into the chair beside her, the warmth of his presence seeping into her skin like the sun.

“I tell you Rhone, if you don’t marry her, I will,” Stryker said with smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes and Kali frowned at him. Casually, as if he did so every day, Rhone curled one arm around her waist, his thumb brushing gently against her side.

“What are you doing here, Stryker?” he asked, taking a sniff of the nearly empty flask with an arched brow towards Kali.

“Your mother sent me to babysit you on this scouting mission. She’s worried you and Phinn may get into trouble.”

“I don’t need a babysitter--besides I need you to stay here and guard Kali.”

Kali scowled at him, temper rising, “If you think I’m staying here while you go investigate Hybern, you’re delusional.”

Rhone glared back at her. “You’re a target. Do you think those soldiers coming into our Court is a coincidence?”

“I don’t know what gave you the idea that you were my boss,” she said coolly, “but you are mistaken.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his pale hair and releasing it from its band so it fell around his face. “It’s too dangerous, Kali.”

Some of her temper ebbed and she gave him a teasing smile, “Don’t worry, princeling. I’ll protect you.”

Stryker hooted with laughter and stood, grabbing his scattered clothing. “Guess I’ll see you both in the morning,” he chuckled.

Rhone still looked unconvinced even after Stryker left the apartment, still grinning. Kali rested her head against his shoulder and patted his leg in a comforting gesture, “You know I’d follow you even if you left me behind.”

He scowled and looked her over thoughtfully. “Maybe if I tied you to the bed…”

Kali laughed and stood up. “Come on princeling, let’s get some sleep. We have a long way to go tomorrow.”

_____________________

Special thanks to those of you who were kind enough to leave a review for these new chapters! They mean the world to me!


	30. Into the Woods

It wasn’t as easy as walking out of the city with the princeling by her side, of course. Kali was still a criminal--highborn lovers or not--and the guards were still scouring the streets for her. There were rumors even that she had something to do with the recent string of murder which stung more than she’d anticipated.

So, before the first light of dawn could crest the city walls, Kali slipped out of the apartment without even waking the wolves slumbering in front of the fireplace. She was careful to bring all the weapons she’d been squirreling away and her warmest clothes. The morning air was bitterly cold and thick snow swirled around her, courtesy of the storm that had blown in the night before. Pulling the collar of her coat up to try to block some of the gods awful winds, Kali made her way towards the edge of the city, her mind on the male she’d left sleeping in room above.

Rhone had been...off the night before and it made her edgy. His emotions had fluttered and shifted more wildly than she’d ever seen from him before, making it difficult for her to understand what was going on. When she’d asked, he’d only shrugged and dodged the question.

Was he beginning to regret whatever had started between them? 

She shoved the malignant thought away with the ease of long practice. Part of the appeal of her mate was that he didn’t lie or mislead her. He was honest and good and she’d seen no reason to stop believing that now.

They’d spent most of the night arguing over whether or not she should go on this mission. He’d been more agitated than she’d ever seen him and she knew he hoped she’d changed her mind. Perhaps when he woke up to find her missing, that’s what he’d assume.

He wanted her safe and guarded within the walls of Kharos, but that was not the life she’d chosen for herself.

Tucking her hands more deeply into her pockets, she made her way down to the piers on the edge of the frozen lake Kharos sat on. In a few hours these docks would be filled with the company of men selected to escort Rhone and his brother to track down the rumors of strange soldiers moving through the Winter Court. Now, the massive ice sleds that would carry them across the lake to the snowy tundra that would eventually give way to Summer.

Home, her heart whispered, they would be going to her home.

It wasn’t their home anymore, she whispered back. Just a foolish dream of the broken creature who’d crawled out of Amarantha’s pits. 

A cheerful whistle cut through her morose thoughts and she looked over to see a familiar male leaning against one of the stacks of crates carefully stacked against the quiet storage sheds. Kali changed her course until she was standing in front of him and smiled, “You’re up early for a gambler.”

Stryker groaned and rubbed his temples, “Aye and I have a nasty headache to show for it.”

“Drink too much?” she said with mock sympathy.

“You should be just as ill considering you drank most of it when you were cheating favors from me.”

“I’ve had worse nights. Did you bring what I asked?”

“Yes,” he grumbled and tossed her a wrapped package. Kali grinned and ducked into the shelter created by a few of the crates and tore into it. Wearing a soldier’s uniform seemed like sacrilege but she enjoyed the humor of it. 

Shivering and cursing, Kali struggled out of her warm clothes and into the cold and unfamiliar outfit while Stryker kept watch nearby. “You’d better not be peeking,” she warned.

“Would I be a proper rogue if I didn’t?”

Her half-hearted snarl was cut off by her chattering teeth and the fabric of her new shirt. When the underclothes were in place, she stepped back out so Stryker could help her tie on the thick leather armor that marked her as one of the light cavalry units assigned to this task. He wore a similar outfit paired with a thick cloak.

Blowing warm air into her cupped hands to try to get feeling back to them, she asked, “Where are the soldiers these uniforms belong to?”

“You don’t want to know.” Stryker pulled a thick leather belt with a short sword and scabbard hanging from it and slung it around her hips, fastening it securely. He gave a grunt of approval, “This is probably the most respectable you or I will ever look.”

Kali snorted and the two of them made their way down the docks to join the rest of the scouting party. He angled them away from the soldiers getting on the sleds towards a warm looking stable that housed a number of sturdy grey horses.

“Here,” he murmured. “You know how to ride?”

In answer, she pulled herself on to one of the smaller horses that were saddled and turned it in a tight circle. Stryker mounted a tall gelding with clever eyes and the two of them carefully joined the ranks outside. With all the activity at the docks, it was easy to blend in with the rest of the forty or so riders waiting for Kallias’ sons.

“Did you tell Rhone our plan?”

“Do I look like an idiot to you?”

Kali’s lips twitched in a smile that dimmed slightly when she caught sight of a familiar tall male striding towards the stables, his wolves at his side. Instead of his usual casual clothing, he was dressed in fur lined leathers similar to her own with disks of bright metal sewn in for extra protection. Casually she tugged up the hood of her cloak and shifted her horse to stand behind a few of the larger soldiers. It wouldn’t do for Rhone to recognize her and ruin her chances of getting out of the city quietly.

Her bad luck continued when Phinn jogged over to his side, talking animatedly and mounting two massive white stallians. The war horses flattened their ears at the other animals gathered around and gave Freya a snorted warning when she strayed too close. Juno gave Phinn’s mount a nip for the offense and only a sharp whistle from Rhone kept a scuffle from breaking out.

Rhone’s eyes scanned the group, clearly searching for someone, before settling on Stryker as he gave him a cheerful wave. Kali huddled deeper in her hood as he nudged his horse forward to ride beside Stryker. “Where is she?” Rhone demanded in a voice like molten steel.

“Who?” The rogue gave him an innocent look.

“Don’t play games, Stryker. I know she wouldn’t disappear without warning.”

The edginess in his voice made something in her twist in familiar pain and she wondered if her princeling sounded...hurt. It was enough to make her want to move closer to him, to try to soothe some of the lines of tension away from his face.

“I’m sure she’s around, my lord.”

Rhone sighed and eyed his friend, noticing the uniform for the first time. “What are you wearing?” A glimmer of mischief danced in his blue green eyes.

“Your mother thought I should try to blend in,” Stryker replied in an affronted tone. “I think I look dashing.”

“You look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing Kali isn’t here since she’d probably fall desperately in love with me. All females love a male in uniform.”

Rhone’s response was cut off by the sound of a hunting horn that signalled the beginning of their excursion. The ranks of horsemen moved forward in a practiced movement towards the ramps leadings to the frozen lake beyond. Kali’s stomach lurched at the thought of trusting the ice to hold up the weight of all these horses, but forced herself to stay with the group, relying on her mount to keep pace. Rhone, Stryker, and Phinn remained near the front of the small herd, occasionally talking or joking with one another.

The wind tore at her clothes and hair with greedy fingers and she was glad for the fur lined gloves and boots that kept her fingers and toes from freezing in it. Her mount’s shaggy coat helped keep her legs warms as they picked up speed across the lake, heading towards the distant shoreline. She let herself keep to the back of the group, hoping the number of fae between them would keep Rhone from noticing her presence until they were far away from Kharos.

The lake gave way to an icy tundra where only a few hardy grasses dared to grow. Sunlight glared painfully off the glittering snow forcing them to tug on the dark lensed goggles to protect their eyes. It was slow going and she was glad for the rest of the troops’ experience as they picked their way around deep cravasses and snow drifts. Eventually the world of white around them began to give way to evergreen forests and the first signs of color and life.

Around midday, the captain of the unit signalled that they should stop to rest and water the horses. Kali tried not to release a guttural groan of relief as she slid off her saddle and limped towards the icy mountain stream they’d stopped beside. The other soldiers efficiently began to unpack the simple lunch of flat trailbread and cheeses from their saddlebags and light a few fires. 

Hissing out a breath when her muscles shrieked in agony, Kali crouched a little ways upstream from her thirsty horse and drank deeply. The water was sweet and icy down her wind roughened throat.

“Enjoying the trip so far?” A deep voice purred in her ear and she froze.

Rhone.

Smiling guiltily, she turned to find him crouched on the bank beside her. “I wondered where you’d disappeared to.” He gave her a bemused look, taking in her cavalry uniform and light armor. “Why is it that I always find you in some ridiculous costume when you’re up to no good?”

“It’s not like I’m planning to rob you,” she began but he arched one pale eyebrow.

“You already did.”

Kali laughed and some of his annoyance softened. Taking his offered hand gratefully, she gingerly stood up and tried not to wince at the movement.

“Not used to riding?” he guessed.

She gave him a wicked smile, “Not horses.”

Rhone’s eyes blazed with heat and his hand tightened around hers for a moment. He started forward but a call from the camp made him pause with a growl, “Why are we always getting interrupted?”

A bleat of horror struck her shields and she would have stumbled if Rhone didn’t reach out to steady her. Barely glancing at him, she took off towards the soldiers gathering around a nearby clearing. Kali pushed her way to the front of a crowd and felt her stomach drop with a sickening lurch. Stryker stepped forward as if to save her from that image, but the blade that was suddenly in her palm and pricking the sliver of skin unprotected by his armor had him moving slowly away to reveal the massacre in front of her.

The small meadow was a ruin of ash and embers that still flickered wickedly in their midst. Smooke hung heavy on the ground in a heavy fog that stank of burnt meat. The fires had burned in an almost perfect circle--the edges too clean to be anything but planned even if one ignored the bodies. 

They were staked out inside of that circle, naked flesh gleaming in macabre horror in the daylight. Limbs twisted and flesh withered away as though they’d waited years to be discovered. She didn’t need to look to see the arcane marking she knew would be carved into muscle and bone to know what had happened here.

After all, this wasn’t about magic. It was a message.

Kali took a slow step forward, ripping her arm free from another restraining arm without bothering to see who it was, until her boots were crunching over the backlash of this tainted power. She knew they would whisper, that they would begin to question her carefully crafted cover. That they would realize that a monster walked among them.

Her eyes remained fixed on the center of the circle where a small body had been carefully tied to the scarred remains of a cedar tree. Despite the flame’s work around it, it remained whole and unblemished--unblemished everywhere but its’ back.

Rhone cursed a vicious streak from her side and she could distantly feel his rage and worry for her washing over her like a warm wind. It helped anchor her for what would happen next.

Moving through the bodies was like walking over the shatter glass left by the lies she’d told herself. She was safe. Amarantha was dead. No one knew she was alive.

She would survive this.

Their blank eyes seemed to watch her as she stumbled forward, lacking any of the grace of her profession. Her boots seemed to find every rock and root in her path, but she couldn’t--wouldn’t--stop. Each step stirred the ashes beneath her until it coated her lungs in a thick film that edged into her soul. Marked her as one of them.

Kali stopped at the base of that terrible tree and stared at the mangled body above her. The caramel brown of the girl’s skin was the sallow color of the pale birch trees in the distance of the sands of her homeland. Pale, silvery white hair hung in matted clumps dyed brown by drying blood over one shoulder, with a few stubborn strands moving in the light breeze that rustled the trees around them. 

She was petite, so small compared to the gross injustice done to her. Her back had been whipped until the muscle gave way to bone and none of the skin remained. In life, she would have been beautiful. In death, her features were twisted in a final mask of agony and pleading for mercy that did not come. 

Kali knew those wounds. Knew and lived them again and again in her dreams and memories.

“Kali…” Rhone whispered and she flinched at the reminder that she wasn’t alone. That this wasn’t some fever dream.

Without responding, she reached for the knife at her waist and began to hack at the ropes that bound the girl’s wrists. His hands came up to gently lift the ropes away from the branch they’d been anchored to. “Don’t,” she snarled in a voice that was raw with the screams she couldn’t release. “I have to do this. I have to bring her down.”

Rhone hesitated, then lifted that tiny, broken body once again, cradling her against his chest gently. “Let me help you,” he said softly.

Her hands were shaking so hard she heard her knife thud dully on the ruined earth at her feet. Carefully, Rhone tugged off his cloak and laid the ruined body down on the material, as if to guard it from the ugliness around it. When he went to cover her to protect what was left of her modesty, Kali made a guttural sound.

“Wait.”

Falling to her knees beside the victim’s body, Kali slowly lifted the thick length of hair from where it had tangled around her neck, uncovering burn marks that wrapped around the thin throat. Nausea roiled in her gut and she had to breathe deeply through her nose to keep from vomiting. The words were almost unrecognizable from the swelling left by death, but she could still make out the message left for her.

'She’s coming.'


	31. Questions Without Answers

Hours later, Rhone stood watching the small outline of his thief staring into the fire outside of their tent. Not for the first time he wished that he’d forced her to stay in Kharos. Forced her to live a life that was not marred by the horrors left in that destroyed meadow.

For the first time in his life, he wished his magic was kinder, warmer like the sun she so obviously craved. He wished he had some way of taking the shadows that seemed to press against her. Wished he could erase the scars and memories that haunted her. 

It had taken the soldiers hours to dig graves in the frozen earth for each of the victims they’d found there. Thirteen innocent lives lost to an unknown monster. The normal practice of burning the bodies of the fallen had seemed almost sacrilegious amidst the scarred remains of the magic done here.

Kali had been almost mad with grief, her skin pale and shaking. She’d insisted on being the one to lay the tiny female to rest.

A female who looked just like her.

It was as if Kali believed that if she could protect her from the hands of the other soldiers, she could ease some of the horrors that had been dealt here. Anytime Rhone moved too close she’d look at him with nightmares in her eyes and death on her lips, refusing to let him take the shovel from her blistered hands. Hers was the last grave completed that day, long after the sun sank beneath the horizon and the rest of the company began to make camp a little ways away.

All he could do was watch her chip away at the earth as it were somehow to blame for this.

Stryker moved to stand beside him, eyes grim, looking foreign and unfamiliar without his usual smirks and winks. “How is she?” he asked softly.

Rhone shrugged. There were no words to describe the silent agony this day had been.

“We need to talk about the bodies.”

Reluctantly, Rhone stepped away from the firelight and deeper into the woods, signalling to his girls to stay with Kali. They walked in silence for a few minutes until they could be certain they wouldn’t be overheard.

“These bodies look like the victims in Kharos. The victims you’ve been looking for,” Stryker began in an accusatory voice. “What in the seven hells are they doing all the way out here?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do the markings mean? You’d have to be half blind and dead to miss the magic in the air. What are they doing with them?”

Rhone scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing slightly at the dried blood that flecked away. “Kali thinks it’s connected to the spellbook.”

“Mother’s tits, Rhone--what kind of spellbook did she steal?”

He hesitated, eyeing the silent trees around them for a moment before whispering, “The spellbook belonged to Amarantha.”

Stryker’s eyes widened and he blinked twice before cursing violently and creatively enough that even Rhone was impressed. “What is something like that doing in Kharos?”

“My father was guarding it.”

“Not bloody well apparently,” Stryker snarled, beginning to pace.

“These victims are different from the others,” Rhone said softly, beginning to piece together some of the puzzle. “In Kharos, they were all Imendi, but these were all Summer fae. This wasn’t about magic.”

It was about her, he realized with a sick feeling of dread. His mind went back to the tiny body left on that awful tree, a gruesome message carved into her flesh. Exactly like the scars that marred Kali’s back.

“Whoever is behind this is connected to your thief,” Stryker murmured and Rhone nodded. “Did she tell you what this sort of magic is used for?”

“It gathers power,” he replied dully, mind racing. “It allows you to store power for more complicated magic.”

Both males fell silent, each imagining what kind of horrors were hidden in Amarantha’s spellbook.

“This is too recent to be a coincidence, Rhone,” Stryker muttered, sounding worried. “The fires were still burning around the bodies and it was only a few yards off the trail.”

“Someone knew we would travel this way.” 

 

They made their way back to the camp in somber silence. Stryker moved off to check on his mount and ensure that the sentries on duty were at their stations while Rhone veered away to speak with Phinn and the captain of the scouting unit. They needed to get out of these woods and back to Kharos as quickly as possible. If they were in any Court besides Winter they’d leave immediately, but dawn would have to do.

He doubted any of them would much sleep tonight.

That done, he walked back to the small fire beside his tent and settled on a rock next to his silent thief. Freya’s head rested lightly on her knee while Juno sat with her back to them, eyes watching the soldiers nearby and the woods. Kali was silent, unmoving and unblinking as she stared into the light and heat like she wanted to curl up inside of it. It broke something in him to see her this way. Made him feel powerless against the poison left in her mind.

With a practiced movement, Rhone curled the edge of his new cloak around her and pulled her flush against his side. For a long moment, she remained stiff against him. Then the air rushed out of her on a ragged sob and she turned her head into his chest, shaking hard enough that he worried she might hurt herself.

Rhone twisted and pulled until she was curled against him on his lap, her head tucked under his chin and his cloak shielding her from the cold night and curious stares of the rest of their party. Juno and Freya pressed closer, whining softly at the distress of their new packmate. Helplessly he ran his hands over her back in soothing strokes, feeling the dampness of her tears soak into his shirt.

“Please don’t cry, love,” he pleaded softly. “You’re breaking my heart.”

She gave a strangled laugh and whispered against the skin exposed by his shirt, raising goosebumps along his arms. “I wish I’d never taken that book.”

Rhone smiled, “I don’t know...I’m pretty fond of that particular crime.”

Kali took a deep breath, settled more firmly against him, and sighed, “If I hadn’t, these people would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that. If someone is amassing power, they would have been killing anyway. At least without the book they can’t do more evil.”

She started to sit up and he had to curl his fingers into fists to keep from holding on. “We need to get back to Kharos before anyone else is killed. We have to end this.”

“We will,” he murmured soothingly. “I’ve already given the orders to get back tomorrow at first light.” Kali hesitated, her head turned in the direction of his home. Rhone pressed his advantage without remorse. “It’s not safe to try to gets across the ice fields without some kind of light. We can leave the rest of the scouts behind and move faster once morning comes.”

Her grey eyes flicked to between his and the waiting darkness before she sighed again. “Fine. It’s too cold anyway,” she grumbled.

Rhone grinned and cradled her closer, enjoying the sensation of holding her. She fit against him like a missing piece, like something he’d been missing and regained. 

Like a mate.

The thought was enough to wipe away the traces of a smile from his face. Delorea. Delorea was his mate. Delorea, a lady of Hybern with perfect manners and practiced smiles. She would be the perfect partner for a High Lord’s son. His body, his magic had chosen her to be the other half of his soul.

So why did he dread every moment spent with her?

He’d imagined meeting his mate a million different ways, from a million different faces, but lately all he could see was the stubborn tilt of Kali’s chin or the way her grey eyes lit up right before she did something that drove him crazy. Her breathing was even now, stirring the loose ends of his hair as she slept against him. 

Rhone gently smoothed the frown lines on her forehead and stood carefully, walking into their tent and lowering her to the blankets. Before she could notice his absence, he stretched out beside her, curling his body around hers like a living barrier from the rest of the world.

“Just sleep, Kali,” he whispered and brushed a kiss across her furrowed brow. “ I’ll protect you from your nightmares tonight.”


	32. Broken Bargains

Burning hatred and violence lay heavy on her tongue. Pressed down on her body until each breath was a struggle. Each pump of her heart a test in strength and endurance. 

It was enough to drag her out of sleep and lay blinking up at the cloth ceiling of their tent. For a moment, she could only blink up at it, trying to figure out where she was. She must have fallen asleep last night by the fire. Beside her, Rhône was sleeping, though not for much longer if the frown on his face was any indication. Kali focused on her extra senses and cast her mind out into the darkness that surrounded their sleeping camp. 

There. 

Something was coming. Something large and violent like that winds that swept off the frozen lake that edged one side of Kharos. The last time she’d felt something like this had been in Under the Mountain when Amarantha released her favorite beasts into the night. She shuddered at the memory and Rhône was instantly awake. “What is it?”

Kali was already sitting up to pull on her boots and reach for her weapons. “Something’s wrong.”

To his credit, Rhône didn’t pepper her with questions or second guess her proclamation—just pulled off the covers and reached for his shirt. Kali’s fingers shook as she fumbled with placing her knives in their sheaths in the unfamiliar uniform as another wave of that malevolent energy washed over her, closer now. She wanted to hold her hands over her ears as if that would block out the lingering trail of violence that spread over her mind like an oily film. 

It was all around them now and she finally managed to identify what she was sensing. 

Murderers. Killers all around the edges of their camp under the cover of darkness to slip in while they were sleeping. There was a burst of cruel delight that stung like acid on her skin and indicated the first sentry’s death as she scrambled for the door. 

“Ambush!” There was no time to be subtle--not when they were so close. She screamed the warning again and again to the rest of the scouts in their small group and was rewarded by the sounds of alarm rippling through the camp. 

Rhône was hot on her heels as she raced towards the tents where Phinn and Stryker were still sleeping, knocking her hands against each tent she passed to wake the men inside. Phinn stumbled out of one, looking around in confusion, “What’s going on?”

Stryker appeared a moment later, fully dressed and eyes wary as he scanned the trees around them. “Are the sentries down?”

“Yes,” she gritted out. “I think--” A wave of nausea followed another burst of violent energy and Rhône’s quick hand around her arm was the only thing that kept her from going to her knees. Clenching her teeth, she yanked up her shields and forced herself to focus on the males in front of her. “There’s--”

The sound of metal scraping free of its scabbard broke through the stillness of the night and she whirled to stare into the darkness. Juno and Freya growled, their ears flat and hackles raised, the sound making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Shadows moved between the dying firelight and the trees around them seemed to bend and reshape as horrific screams broke through the night. 

Light flashed bright and blinding as the first tent caught fire in a rush of heat and burning canvas. The disoriented and confused Winter Court soldiers milled around their destroyed campsite, trying to discern friend from foe in the dim light.

“To me!” Rhone shouted, his deep voice carrying over the noise as he grabbed his own weapons.

Kali, Stryker, and Phinn pulled their blades free as whoops and chilling war cries split the night silence around them. Winter soldiers scrambled to join ranks nearby as the sounds of bloodshed crept closer.

Then they were on them, faces contorted in masks of rage and bloodlust. Rhone and Stryker moved forward, fighting with such synchronicity that she knew they’d trained together before. They attacked the thickest group of mercenaries with deadly skill with Juno baying a war song as she pounced on an unfortunate fae female. Phinn nocked an arrow on his recurved bow and fired, giving them support anytime someone tried to flank them. Freya remained at his side, protecting his back.

In the midst of them, a gigantic fae towered over the rest of the red-clad mercenaries. Ram’s horns curled around its ears and shaggy hair that continued over his bare chest and forearms. Its’ eyes narrowed on her, rushing forward with surprising speed, hand gripping his weapon in preparation for his attack.

Kali was forced to bring her shortsword up to block a vicious swing from a claymore nearly as large as she was wielded by the massive crossbreed. Her blade chipped and splintered, a large piece falling to the ground with a dull thud. 

He grinned at her, revealing teeth filed to points, “Pretty.”

She dropped low, palming a smaller blade and rolling between his legs, out of range of another swing. As she did, her blade bit deep into his right thigh, slicing open the femoral artery in a spray of blood and pain that covered her skin.

The beast howled in agony, twisting to grab at her. Kali moved with him, ducking a meaty fist and leaping up, up his muscular back using the thick green hair for a handhold until she could wrap her legs around his neck. He hit her again in her thigh, trying to dislodge her as he began to choke and she felt the blow reverberate up her spine to rattle her teeth.

“Kali!” Stryker called out in alarm, but she ignored him--too focused on her prey.

Before the fae realized he could still use his sword to hack up her, Kali flipped her grip on the longer of her knives and rammed it deep into the space between his neck and shoulder. He choked, blood pouring into his lungs and stumbled forward, hands scrabbling weakly against her legs. She kept her position there, twisting the blade until he fell forward and she could leap free of his twitching body.

Kali landed a few feet from Stryker, who was staring at her with a mixture of awe and lust. The rogue glanced over at Rhone with a grin, “If you don’t marry her--I will.”

She grinned at Rhone who looked her over for injuries before rolling his eyes at his friend. “I think we may have killed off the majority of them,” he said, scanning the trees and what was left of the scouting party around them.

Whatever she would have said in response was cut off by the distinctive whistling noise that had Rhone grabbing her and tossing her to the ground with his body over hers, before she could move. Kali stared into his pale eyes and pushed against his chest helplessly, trying to shove him off of her. “Rhone, no!” 

Rhone grunted and she felt the wash of his pain hit her senses like the arrow had torn into her own flesh. “Rhone!” she cried desperately, trying to figure out where he’d been hit. How bad it was.

Liquid seeped into the side of her shirt, soaking through the thin leather armor to the undershirt, and she felt her panic beating in her chest like a wild thing. 

He had to be okay. He had to survive. 

“Kali,” he whispered and she watched his eyes go fuzzy with pain from the arrow in his back. 

A cold sort of focus grew in her mind and she only distantly noticed that the arrows had stopped falling to the earth around them. Carefully, she rolled him to his side so the arrow wouldn’t go any deeper. Another arrow shaft was embedded in the muscle of his calf and she checked to make sure it hadn’t nicked an artery. Stryker and Phinn rushed forward, hauling one of the supply carts over to use as a shield for their fallen brother. 

“Rhone!” Phinn begged, “You have to stay awake! Don’t close your eyes.”

But those wild blue eyes remained fixed on her, pain bracketing his mouth as he coughed.

Kali let the ice in her veins spread until the cold became a part of her and stood, ignoring Stryker’s attempt to grab her and keep her safely behind cover. Juno and Freya raced past her, whining and crooning to their fallen pack mate, but she ignored them, moving forward until she was in the center of the clearing and raised her arms.

All that time. All that time she’d let Amarantha and the monsters of her Court treat her like she was victim. Let them take away her power and her choice because it was easier than fighting, than losing. She’d looked away from all the agony and desperation around her and just focused on surviving, on making it through one more day. It was easy to stay away from the other prisoners. Easy to pretend that she was just another monster in their midst and wait for the day that that changed.

But she was done being someone else’s victim, their prisoner.

They would pay for what they’d done this night. What they’d done to her mate.

Kali reached into that awful core of power that leapt forward eagerly, greedily at her touch and released it. She drew deep within her memories to those dark days in the pit, in the days of being Amarantha’s monster. Honed them into a weapon that ripped and tore at the minds of the soldiers in front of her until their cries were like a nightmarish symphony.

The archers went first, dropping to the ground and crawling toward her on hands and knees. Tears streamed down their faces as they wordlessly sobbed, drawn forward by a force they couldn’t control. Pain throbbed at her temples, but she ignored it, casting her power out until she could feel each of the soldiers sent against them tonight. Kali felt the familiar smile of a long dead queen crease her lips and ripped more of that malevolent power free from its’ moorings, directing it like arrow bolts towards her unseen foes.

The battered Winter Court soldiers looked around in confusion as she stepped forward, the cruel smile on her face matching Rhone’s dark blood streaked over her skin.

Stryker cursed, still holding pressure over the worst of Rhone’s wounds while Phinn shouted to the stunned soldiers, “Fall back. Get to your prince!”

They raced back to the burning camp, parting around her like waves against a rock. Kali ignored them, just kept pulling that awful power and sensation out of the darkest parts of her soul until every Hybernese mercenary was screaming and twitching on the ground, lost in her agony, but unable to resist her siren’s call. Her head pounded in an erratic tattoo, warning her that she was too close to the limits of her power, but she ignored it.

They hurt him. Cut him down like he was nothing.

Their suffering wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. She could keep them here, trapped in a new nightmare for an eternity and it still wouldn’t be long enough to wipe the blood and pain of her mate from their souls.

“Kali…” Stryker murmured from somewhere behind her, but she didn’t--couldn’t--look away from the men on their knees before her. Liquid dripped onto her lip and she wiped the blood from her nose in a quick gesture. “Kali, you have to stop.”

“No.” The word was guttural. Torn from a throat that felt raw with the screams she couldn’t release.

 

They are afraid of me. It’s alright, she thought darkly, I’m afraid of me too. 

Screams filled the night. A chorus of pleading, weeping males and females begging for relief, for mercy. 

But she had none. 

Phinn made a gagging noise at the sight, but Kali ignored him, reveling in her power. The Winter Court soldiers retreated to circle their fallen prince and she let them go without losing her focus on the mercenaries from Hybern. The fear she created hung like a miasma on the clearing, curling around her like smoke to a fire. 

Closing her hand into a fist, she neared down on the cowering forms and was rewarded with a new wave of keening screams. 

“Go,” she crooned softly, her amplified power making her voice echo oddly. 

Rhône made a weak sound. “Kali—“

She turned her eyes to Phinn, who flinched at the nightmares reflected in her dark eyes. “Take him and leave,” she ordered, “I will finish this.”

“You’ve overextended yourself. Your magic can’t hold on much longer,” Stryker murmured, eyes wary.

“Take him and leave.”

“No.”

This time the word was weak, thready with pain as Rhone struggled to sit up even as his brother held him back in a firm grip. Kali’s hold on her magic wavered and the men spasming on the ground wept with relief, curling on their sides like puppets without strings. She couldn’t look at him, broken and bleeding on the ground, so she glanced to Stryker, “Take him to a healer. Phinn can winnow him back.”

Her legs were shaking so hard that she had to lock her knees to keep from falling, but she knew she couldn’t release her magic just yet. 

“Kali,” Rhone said again and she shivered at the desperation there.

Kali shifted her focus back to Stryker who watched her thoughtfully. “I’m calling in my favors, King of the Warrens--” His mouth tightened at the formal wording, but she continued doggedly, “--Get Rhone back to Kharos and keep him there. Don’t come back for me.”

“You can’t do this alone,” Stryker murmured, looking torn between keeping his word and keeping her alive. Rhone pushed back against his brother’s hold, trying and failing to rise.

She wanted to run to him, to heal him somehow. But her magic had never been intended for good. It was a weapon. She was a weapon. At least this time she could use it for good.

“Go,” Kali whispered, a note of pleading there.

Rhone growled in frustration. As if he knew he wasn’t strong enough to do more, Kali felt that glorious warmth blossom in her chest as it had that night in the tavern. Her powers danced and rushed out of her like a seismic wave that left only screams in its wake. That awful pressure in her head eased and she took her first easy breath, the oxygen burning in her lungs as Rhone’s gift amplified and healed the rifts in her magic.

A soldier wearing the dark uniform of Hybern crawled towards her, tears staining his cheeks and creating furrows in the blood and dirt smeared there. She ignored him as he wrapped his hands around her ankles, pressing his forehead to her boot and sobbing brokenly. 

Phinn tightened his hold on his brother protectively. Kali pretended that the horror in his expression didn’t twist like a knife. She’d been fooling herself with the thought that she could make a home here. That she belonged in Rhône’s world. 

But she was only a monster, a weapon, created for destruction and anguish—not love. 

It was why her bond with Rhône would never be completed, she knew. Playing house in his apartment and warming his bed would only lead to more heartache. 

She needed to end it. 

“Our contract is complete,” Kali said flatly, her dead eyes meeting the blue green of her mate one last time. “Go back to where you belong, princeling.”

“Don’t—” Rhône started to say, but her control snapped at the panic in his eyes and she shot a bolt of pain and fear into Phinn and Stryker. There was a crack of magic and the scent of snow as Phinn and Rhône disappeared, leaving only the bloodied ice in their wake. 

Pops of magic continued all around her as the Winter soldiers who had the ability disappeared to safety. The rest raced for their horses, not bothering to clear the shredded remains of their camp. Within a few moments she was alone with the sobbing shells of fae at her feet. 

“Now,” she said in a voice that made them shudder in horror and the scent of vomit and urine grow stronger, “let’s finish this.”

 

I hope you are enjoying the story so far! Thanks to those of you who take the time to review and let me know what you think!


	33. Leave the Light On

Kali surrendered herself to the darkness of the night and scent of blood, heavy and thick on her tongue. Her powers built to a degree she rarely allowed, until the quiet peace of the woods was split by howls of terror and pain. Now that the Winter Court soldiers were gone, she could begin to get answers.

Her head throbbed unmercifully and she felt pinpricks of pain blossom around her eyes, warning of ruptured blood vessels. Without Rhone here to amplify her magic, she was left to draw on her waning strength to hold each of the survivors until she was finished questioning them. She leaned heavily against the wagon that had protected Rhone and scanned the mercenaries that were still breathing, curled at her feet like loyal pets.

“Archers…” she growled hoarsely, her voice as rough as if she were the one screaming. “Step forward.”

The soldiers hesitated, unsure what she intended, so she built on their terror, mimicked the blazing pain she’d felt echoed through Rhone until they crawled to her on hands and knees. The darkness in her seemed to build with each agonized plea, until her eyes glowed in the flickering firelight like molten silver.

When the archers had gathered before her, she surveyed the group of soldiers with flat eyes. “Who among you know who hired you?” Her voice crooned and teased with notes of pleasure that cut through the miasma of suffering around her.

There was a beat of silence, then a bloodied fae male stumbled forward to fall at her feet. Kali watched him without expression for a moment before her reddened gaze flicked back to the archers. “Kill the others,” she ordered and watched the archers pull from their quivers and take aim at the quivering bodies of their comrades.

The twang of bowstrings and thud of them finding their targets filled the night air once again, but she felt nothing.

There was no room for it in the chasm left by Rhone’s disappearance.

This was the true nightmare of her abilities. Fae believed that daemati were the true terrors of their world. The malicious whispers that could bring them to turn on themselves or their family.

They didn’t understand the real monsters could twist their beliefs and senses with the promise of more pleasure.

Or more pain.

With each death, the pressure on her powers eased until she could finally breathe through the pain again and the dark spots swimming at the edges of her vision disappeared. Slowly, she trailed her gaze over the male in front of her, letting peace and bright pleasure brush over his mind until he was shivering and clinging to her feet.

“Tell me what you know,” Kali purred, tilting his head up towards hers with a gentle finger. 

Screams ripped through the night once more as she ripped into the minds of the archers, building their pain and fear to crescendo. Magic pooled and swirled around her, returning to her in trickling rushes as their minds and bodies broke beneath her wrath. Part of her wanting to drag out their misery. To avenge each drop of her mate’s blood spilled here tonight.

But she needed answers.

“Please…” 

The words were overused and fell on deaf ears. What good was pity or mercy against monsters and murderers?

“Did she beg?” Kali asked, her voice flat. Releasing her hold on his mind and emotions abruptly, she watched him stare at her with the dilated pupils of the addicted. The same way Amarantha had once looked at her.

“Who?”

“The girl in the woods.” She let her power wrap around him tighter, until his eyes glazed and he stared up at her like she was a goddess come to life. “Did she beg?”

The male blinked, fractured mind trying to remember an event that seemed insignificant against the wild might of the female before him. Her interest in the dead Summer girl made him eager to please, eager to share. “Yes,” he replied in a voice gone soft with memory. “She cried and begged for us to stop, but we knew what we had to do.”

“And what did you have to do?” Kali purred, lifting his bloody chin once again so he could stare into the icy grey of her eyes.

“We had to make sure the bait was good enough for the trap to work.”

The sound of those awful ash arrows cutting through the night seemed to whisper through the trees and her fingers tightened around the male’s throat until he made a distressed sound.

“Who sent you here?” she growled.

“We never met them--they just sent us the cash and a message with instructions on what to do, I--I swear!” He yelped as some of the awful darkness began to press painfully against his mind. “But I saw her once when she met with one of the others going into Kharos.”

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know!” He was sobbing again, the sound grating against her ears. “I only saw her once and I’m not even sure she planned this!”

Useless. All of this information was useless if they couldn’t find the mysterious fae responsible for sending the mercenaries into Kharos and planning this ambush. The female could be a messenger or just a passer by for all this male knew.

Blood was dripping from her nose again signalling her powers were stretched to their limit and she scanned the screaming, weeping survivors of her powers. A few lay on their sides, only the occasional rise and fall of their chests indicating they still lived though their minds were broken.

“Now…” she ordered, voice echoing oddly in the night. Carefully, Kali layered skeins of comfort and trust into her voice until each of them stared at her with expressions of mute worship, tears streaking through the blood and dirt on their faces. She wove her magic through the woods around her, until they could breathe, couldn’t think past their pain and desire to please her. “Take out your knives.”

 

It took her nearly two full days to make it to the city gates. Two days of hobbling and stumbling through a maze of ice and snow and winds that seemed to cut through the thin layers of clothing she still wore, freezing the blood that still marked her as one of the beasts burning behind her. None of the horses had remained behind amidst the blood and death of the ambush, a fact that had made her return that much more difficult.

The cold and effects of her magical burnout made her entire body ache with every beat of her heart. The only thing that kept her moving through the freezing snow and ice was the thought that Rhone might not of have...that the healers might still be trying to save him. That she might have lost him before she could tell him the truth.

Kali clung to the thin band of sunlight that connected her to Rhone like a lifeline. Each time she stumbled, each time her fingers went numb and she forced to push for forward despite the exhaustion dragging her limbs down into the snow, she thought of the agony in his eyes. Of the way he’d thrown himself on top of her without hesitation.

She would not let his sacrifice be wasted.

If she could just make sure he was alive, that he would survive this, she could leave Kharos and track down her elusive new enemies. It would be safer for him to stay away from all of this, she told herself.

The sight of the city walls brought a painful burst of relief that gave her the strength she needed to stumble her way over the frozen lake against the gusts of winter wind. 

Almost there, she chanted to herself, forced to nearly crawl across the icy ground to combat the wind wanting to yank her off her feet. She was so close to the palace. So close to Rhone.

But before Kali could even begin to wonder how she’d get through the city gates, a group of horsemen were tearing across the icy waters toward her. Briefly, she considered running back to the relative safety of the flats, but she knew she’d never make it. Summoning her flagging strength, she pulled her sword free from its holster and used it as a partial crutch to get to her feet.

Thundering hoofbeats filled the air, but instead of attacking, they just circled her, eyeing the sword she was barely able to keep steady. One of the horsemen broke away from the others and Kali was surprised to recognize Rycca, one of Stryker’s informants, when she pulled her scarf free from where it protected her face.

The older female scowled at Kali, eyeing her blood-caked and frozen clothes. “You look awful,” she deadpanned.

Kali rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Stryker sent us to retrieve you.”

“Tell Stryker to stick it up his---”

Rycca cut her off before she could finish her thought, “Do you honestly think you’ll make it into the city looking like that?”

Damn that nosy, phony king and his love of getting involved in her business. Kali looked down at her ruined uniform and sighed, “Fine.”

Rycca grunted and reached a hand down to help pull her onto the back of her horse. Kali barely had time to hold onto the saddle before they were off again, rushing across the lake and into the bustling streets of the city beyond. 

She expected them to take her to the palace, but Rycca and the rest of their group turned down the now familiar thoroughfare that led to the Warrens. They halted outside a well kept stable and Kali slid off the back of the horse when the rest of the group began to dismount. 

Rycca gestured for her to follow and moved into the warmth and light of one of the main tunnels of the Warrens, moving confidently into the crowd of thieves, gamblers, and tourists. After a brief hesitation, Kali stalked after her, narrowing her eyes at anyone stupid enough to meet hers. The crowd parted before her as fae scrambled to get away from her bloodied--and no doubt smelly--form.

They bypassed the lively gambling hall that was Stryker’s usual haunt to go into the living quarters attached to the back. Kali’s patience was wearing thin by the time Rycca led her to one of the rooms and gestured to the bathing room, “There’s a warm bath waiting for you and a change of clothes.”

“Take me to Stryker,” Kali demanded instead.

The older fae female narrowed her eyes at her. “You smell and look like death.”

“Good, then he won’t want to talk for very long.”

They glared at each other for a few moments before Rycca threw up her hands in disgust. “Stubborn creature. At least let the healer look at you--you’re eyes look awful.”

Kali considered arguing again, but one look at herself in the mirror had her reevaluating. The whites of her eyes were completely red from the ruptured vessels that had burst during her burnout. Blood had dried in crusty brown streaks on her face and hair, disfiguring her features until she looked like a nightmare.

Or like the monster she really was.

The healer looked equally terrified as the fae outside and it was an effort not to flinch at the nauseating rush of fear that beat against the walls of her mind. By the time she was finished, Kali was ready to rip into the bossy male who’d ruined her plan to sneak in and out of Kharos without anyone noticing.

She took pleasure in the path of melting dirt she left on the gleaming wooden floors of Stryker’s home as she stalked towards the meeting room where they’d talked before. Shoving open the doors, Kali focused her attention on the dark haired male watching her from his position by the window overlooking the central courtyard of the Warrens. “What part of ‘don’t come for me’ did you not understand?” she snarled.

Stryker looked her over and gave her a flat smile. “I didn’t--you came to me. I never said I wouldn’t look for you if you came back to Kharos.” He took a step towards her, anger and worry warring in his eyes. “I am not in the business of leaving my friends to fight alone. If I didn’t owe you those favors, I would have never allowed you to do such a foolish, stupid thing.”

Some of her anger ebbed at the concern that fluttered against her shields so she took a seat at the ridiculously large table in the center of the room and poured herself a glass of wine, drinking deeply.

“This would have been easier if you’d just let things end there,” Kali whispered into her wine. Then, because she couldn’t help it, she asked, “Is--is he okay?”

“Yes, although I doubt he’ll forgive me for my part in getting him to a healer.” Stryker sighed and stood, walking around the massive table to stand with one hip leaned against the edge nearest her, watching her with an unreadable expression.

Instinctively, Kali cast out with her powers, trying and failing to sense the emotions so carefully contained behind his stoic face. His mind felt like a pool of smoke and ash, impossible to read or control. Each time she tried to read the waves of thought and reaction, it slipped from her grasp and reformed anew.

“Nosy, aren’t you?” Stryker purred, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“How are you doing that?” she asked in surprise. “It’s impossible.”

“It took me a while to figure out what you were,” he said conversationally, reaching out to take a long drink from her forgotten cup. “Even longer to learn to block it.”

Kali stared at him, her mind turning over the new pieces of the puzzle that was Stryker. Slowly understanding dawned. “You’re from the Night Court,” she guessed. “A daemati.”

He nodded and grinned at her. “Clever little thief. Why do you think Rhysand came to the Winter Court in the first place?”

“You told him I was here…” she whispered, horrified at the layers of plotting this male had achieved without her realizing it.

“Well,” Stryker amended with a shrug, “I told him there were a number of interesting new developments in Kharos that he should see for himself. I’ll admit I didn’t expect you two to know each other so well.”

“Are you working for another Court then?” The thought of him betraying Vivianne--betraying Rhone--made her furious. 

Stryker waved away her concern. “I would never betray my lady or her family. But, on occasion, I don’t mind passing along a useful tip to a long-time ally.”

Then why had he let her beat him in so many rounds of cards when he could have earned valuable favors or information from her. Unless… “You wanted me to use my gifts the night you challenged me to Thieves’ Gamble so you could practice blocking me.”

“Right again.”

Kali stood in a burst of nervous energy, feeling off balance by the male watching her like she was a prized pupil. “But why?”

“Learning to block you was particularly useful and I needed to be certain I could contain you if you tried to harm someone.”

“Someone like Rhone?” she asked, stung.

“He is my family. I would do anything to keep him safe.” Stryker’s green eyes were steady on hers and she felt some of her anger abate.

“I would never hurt him.”

“And why is that, I wonder?” he said thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why were you so willing to sacrifice yourself only to run away?”

“Kharos isn’t safe for me anymore.”

“Nowhere is safe for you.” Stryker watched her over the rim of his cup, eyes dark. “I don’t like liars.”

Kali focused on keeping her face neutral as she watched the King of the Warrens like he was some kind of beast waiting to pounce. “The world is filled with liars,” she replied easily, flicking a speck of lint from her sleeve.

“You love him.” The cold statement was enough to break her hold over her expression and her eyes flicked up to his instinctively. He stared at her for a long moment, taking in the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clenched and unclenched over her knife hilts like they were a safety blanket. Growling, he paced toward her, voice like a whip, “Or are you just toying with hi---”

“He’s my mate.”

The words lay between them like the shards of glass that twisted in her heart. Stryker blinked, stunned, and she realized she was panting, gasping for air like the admission had taken something for her. Hanging her head, she looked down at her shaking hands and whispered brokenly, “He’s my mate.”

“Does he know?”

Silently, she shook her head, feeling the familiar ache that something in Rhone’s soul had rejected her. “He doesn’t seem to feel the bond or doesn’t care.”

“That’s why you stayed in Kharos so long. Why you were willing to die to save him…” Stryker’s voice was soft now and she flinched at the understanding there. “Mother save you, you love him.”

“It doesn’t matter. It would never work between us.”

“And why is that?” Stryker asked, green eyes steady.

“I’m a thief--a criminal--and even if I weren’t, his family would never accept me.”

“Does he know who you are?”

Ice trickled into her veins. “What are you talking about?”

Stryker gave her a slightly offended look. “You don’t think I’d allow a strange thief to stay in Kharos--let alone in Rhone’s home--without finding out who you truly are, did you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she started, but he cut her off. “Your name isn’t Kali and you aren’t just some thief.” He stood, pacing along the table as he ticked off facts on his fingers. “If it weren’t for Amarantha, you might have been betrothed to him anyway.”

“If it weren’t for Amarantha there are many things that might have happened--but that doesn’t change reality.”

“You know he wouldn’t and doesn’t care about any of that.”

Kali paced away from him, back to the table where she downed the rest of his whiskey and poured another, enjoying the burn of the liquid slide down her throat. When she finished her second cup, it was easier to speak through the pain in her chest. “Whatever Amarantha did to me must have broken something--made it impossible for me to complete the bond.”

 

Stryker’s expression told her he knew she was just trying to change the subject, but he let it stand. “So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged, “It might be best for...everyone if I disappeared. They know what I’m capable of now and I won’t be welcome here anymore.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I saw the way they looked at me--” Her grey eyes were hard as the ice outside when she looked at him again, “--Rhone is better off without me.”

“Where will you go?”

She shrugged again.

Stryker cursed and snatched the bottle of whiskey from her before she could take another swig. “So you’re a liar and a coward.”

Growling, Kali narrowed her eyes at him and bared her teeth, exposing the tips of her preternaturally long fangs. “Watch your tongue.”

“How long are you going to keep running away?--” He advanced on her, his voice rising with each word he delivered like a blow. “--How many people will be hurt by your continued refusal to acknowledge that they care about you?”

She blinked, mouth opening in surprise, but he didn’t stop until he was only inches from her.

“How long will you let her win?”

 

Hours later, Kali stared up at the dark window panes far above her head, her stomach twisted in knots that only uncurled to somersault through her chest. Thick snowflakes fell everywhere, obscuring her from the guards and the light from the waning moon hidden by thick clouds. The snowstorm was a gift and a curse--it would help keep the Winter Court soldiers from noticing her breaking into their palace...again.

Stretching her arms and fingers briskly, she leapt upwards, grabbing one of the decorative sconces set into the stone and hauled herself up. The climb helped soothe some of the frazzled nerves left by her conversation with Stryker, but didn’t nothing to relieve the burning need in her blood. 

It took her longer than usual to scale the side of the building--slowed by the snow and her own exhaustion--but eventually she hauuled herself onto the private balcony connected to Rhone’s bedroom. Shaking loose some of the tension in her fingers, Kali wasted no time breaking the simple lock that was meant to ensure intruders didn’t come inside.

The room was dark, lit only by a dying fire, and she forced herself to wait breathlessly for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. It was odd to think that the last time she’d been here, they’d been enemies. That there had been a time when she’d considered killing the male who was now her mate.

Slowly, carefully Kali slipped into the room, trying not to drip snowflakes onto the warm marble floors when her eyes seemed glued to the motionless form in the middle of the bed. Unlike last time, there was no sign of Juno or Freya and she wondered at their absence--were his injuries so bad that they couldn’t be trusted near him?

In less than a second, she was across the room and standing next to the bed, heart thundering in her ears. 

Rhone lay still, pale skin gleaming with perspiration no doubt caused by his healing wounds. Gently, she brushed a lock of blonde hair away from his forehead and resisted the urge to keep it there. Her eyes greedily drank in the sight of his familiar features, long lashes that fanned out against high cheekbones and hid the expressive blue green of his eyes--the same color of the waters near her tiny house in Summer. Then they landed on the clean white bandage that was wrapped around one shoulder and part of his chest, covering the wound left behind by an ash arrow.

This was her fault.

Guilt and shame ate at her and Kali was surprised to feel a tear drip down her cheek to land at her feet beside a small puddle of melted snowflakes.

“I’m so sorry, Rhone,” she whispered to him.

As if he heard her silent apology, Rhone stirred, frowning as he struggled to wake and Kali took a step back. Then another. 

She retreated from the warmth of the fireplace and the silent warrior who lay injured and vulnerable on the bed into the freezing winter weather, keeping her eyes on him until she felt the cold panes of the window at her back.

Then Kali turned away and did not look back.


	34. Choices

Leaving Kali alone amidst all those mercenaries was a new nightmare. All he could think about was how dead her eyes were when she threw all that glorious power out into the night. That she was alone against the monsters that had murdered a girl that looked just like her.

It made him wild, thrashing against the iron-like hold of his brother and Stryker when they reappeared on the palace grounds.

“We have to go back!” he roared, ignoring the burning agony of the ash bolts in his back and leg. “We can’t leave her!” Ice crackled and popped on the ground around them as his power rippled wildly, seeking a target for his furious worry.

He was going to kill that little thief for sending him away like this. Or shake her until her teeth rattled in her pretty little head.

Stryker braced his arms against Rhone’s shoulders, forcing him back. “She did this for you, you idiot. You’re no good to her dead.” His face was grimmer than Rhone had ever seen and it made Rhone want to shake him, hit him. Anything but sitting here doing nothing.

“Get a healer!” Phinn shouted and wrapped his arm around Rhone’s waist, bearing his weight so they could wobble forward. 

The guards stationed on the edges of the courtyard responded in a flurry of movement, some rushing towards the wounded males while others went for help. 

Rhone didn’t care. He needed to get back to her.

They could hurt Kali like that’d done that poor Summer girl.

The thought was enough to drive the last bits of his sanity out of his mind and he roared like a man possessed, fighting furiously against the hands holding him back, keeping him from her. Ice crackled in his veins and Phinn yelped as that cold fire burned and numbed his skin. 

Stryker cursed and muttered, “This isn’t working.” The rogue grabbed Rhone’s chin in an unbreakable grip, shadows pooling in his green eyes and around his fingers like smoke. Before Rhone could swing at him or shove him away, that cool darkness seemed to enter into his mind, leaving only silence in its wake.

 

When Rhone opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by the familiar walls of his childhood bedroom. His mind felt sluggish, dulled with something that made the aches of his body feel distant. Slowly, he rolled his head to the side, searching the bed for someone, but only seeing an empty expanse of sheets. He frowned.

Kali.

The name sent a bolt of terror and worry through him, banishing the lingering effects of whatever magic the healers had used on him. Kali was still back in the forest. She could be hurt all alone next to those awful graves and the scars left by tainted magic. She could be--Rhone banished the thought before he could complete it.

He refused to imagine a world where his cunning, reckless little thief was dead.

Wincing at the stiffness of his limbs, Rhone started to sit up when the doors opened, revealing a relieved looking Phinn and the shaggy white blurs of Juno and Freya as they leapt onto the bed to rain kisses on his face. Eventually he was forced to give them a quick command to keep them from knocking him back to the mattress and slowing his efforts to get dressed.

“Take it easy,” Phinn warned,hands gentle as he tried to settle him back against the pillows.

Rhone snarled at him, furious with his brother for taking him back to the palace when Kali was bleeding and barely standing against all those soldiers. “Where is she?”

His brother flinched, looking guilty. “We sent a group back to where we were ambushed, but...she wasn’t there Rhone. All the bodies had been burned and there was no sign of her.”

Something colder than the snow and ice of his homeland lodged in his chest and he had to forced himself to breathe. To think.

“If the bodies were burned, she must have survived.” Even as he said it, relief and a wild hope made his made his hands shake. 

Alive. She had to be alive.

“We think she may have trekked back to Kharos on her own,” Phinn nodded soothingly, propping a few pillows behind Rhone so he could sit up more comfortably. “There was no sign of her body or any of her gear.”

The ice flats were dangerous, but Kali could handle it, he told himself. She hated the snow, but she wasn’t dumb and she’d already proven she knew how to survive in even the most horrific of places.

She had to be okay. 

If what Phinn said was true, Kali must be on her way back to Kharos by now. Even uninjured, travelling the ice flats was dangerous and required years of experience to manage it alone. He had to make sure she wasn’t trapped in some snow bank, freezing to death because he’d abandoned her.

Phinn looked up when the door opened again and Rhône let out a choked sound when all of his frantic worries washed away in a thick cloud of hot house flowers and expensive silks. Without looking up, he knew who'd come calling. 

Delorea. 

The thought of her made dread curl through him that was quickly smothered by a strange mixture of desire and calm. If she was his mate shouldn’t he be glad to see her? His body’s reaction felt...wrong somehow. 

Rhône was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t look up to greet her until she was sitting at the edge of his mattress and leaning over him with a worried expression. “Rhône,” she said a little breathlessly, “I’m so relieved that you’re awake.”

He frowned, trying not to jerk away from her when she began to fuss with his covers. “Did you speak with the healers?”

“A little. Your mother didn’t want anyone to visit until you were awake.” Phinn cleared his throat with a look to Rhône that told him the Lady of Winter had purposely kept Delorea from visiting him while he was unconscious. Before Rhône could question him or to escort his...to escort Delorea away, his younger brother ducked out the door and left them alone in the room together. She reached to brush away a lock of pale blonde hair from his brow and he barely restrained the urge to shove her away when she gave him a secretive smile. “I didn’t want to tell her about the mate bond until we made it official, but I was tempted so I could see you.”

By the Mother, the thought was enough to make nausea curl through his gut.

What he felt for this female was nothing like the unbreakable bond shared by his parents. It felt forced and wrong in a way that made him withdraw each time he saw her. The experience of Beron and the Lady of Autumn proved that not all bonded pairs would love each other like the infamous High Lord and Lady of Night. 

Something in him grieved that he would not have a mate that made him laugh or drove him crazy like....

Like Kali.

Just the thought of her was enough to clear away the lingering traces left by his body’s strange reaction to Delorea and settled something deep within him. But first, he had to finish things with the Lady of Hybern.

“Delorea…” He began and he watched her face fall at the tone of his voice. Before he could continue, she held up her hand.

“I know I’m not the one you love,” she said softly and looked down at the gleaming fold of her dress. “I thought maybe the bond would be enough for you to choose me, but…” Suddenly her blue eyes were on his and he felt himself melting, twisting with guilt and pity as Delorea continued, “If my parents discover that you rejected me even after a mate bond was formed, they would have me publicly whipped and thrown out on the streets at the mercy of anyone who wanted to take advantage of my situation.”

Shock and horror made him blink at the appalling parallel between the broken body of the girl he’d just buried and what would happen to Delorea if he turned her away. He couldn’t be responsible for letting something like that happen again, even if he didn’t love this female.

“Your own parents would do that to you?” he asked in disbelief.

“Hybern is not as forgiving as Prythian has become,” she replied sadly, toying with the lace at her cuff demurely.

“Then stay in the palace as long as you need. We will give you protection if your parents attempt to bring you back.”

“Can we keep our betrothal intact for now?” Delorea asked with a pleading expression and rushed into an explanation when he opened his mouth to refuse. “Just until I figure out what to do. Thrace and your father were very excited at the possibility of our wedding and will need to be told too.”

Yes, he would need to speak to his father soon about his plans for the future.

“Fine,” Rhone said finally and she beamed at him. “But only for a few days.”

Delorea stood and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, “Thank you, Rhone. You don’t know what this means to me.”

He smiled faintly as she exited before throwing back the covers and summoned his flagging strength to get out of bed. His calf burned and ached but didn’t buckle so he carefully pulled on the simplest, loose clothes he could find in his closet. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to manage the leather pants and boots he normally wore.

Juno and Freya flanked him uneasily, watching to make sure he didn’t fall and hurt himself again. Freya pressed her nose to the bandage on his leg and whined.

“It’s alright,” he murmured to her and scratched her ear gently. “I’ll be fine.”

His sock became damp as he stepped into a small puddle of water near the window and Rhone frowned. Why was there water on the floor? 

Tilting his head so the reflection of the fire made each drop of water gleam against the stone floor, Rhone followed the path of water back to the large french doors that led to his balcony. His heart began to pound in a staccato rhythm as he gently touched the broken lock on the door. 

Someone had come into his rooms.

A wild smile creased his face as he followed the trail of water--of melted snow--back to where it stopped beside his bed.

She was alive.

His foolish, brave female was alive and had even come to see him when he’d been healing.

Rhone barely restrained a whoop and thrust his feet into a pair of boots, ignoring the discomfort of his wet socks. Kali was alive and if she’d come for him that meant she was as worried for him as he was for her.

The healers had closed the tear in his skin with magic, but he was still sore and tired from the drain of their healing. It made him slow and clumsier than usual, but he forced himself to move as quickly as possible. Once his clothes were on, he threw on a jacket and slipped into the hall. A whispered command had his girls ranging ahead of him to warn him of anyone in his path as he limped along. It wouldn’t do to have his mother catch him sneaking out of the palace in the middle of the night--not when he needed to find Kali.

Go back to where you belong, princeling.

The memory of her words had him gritting his teeth against his fury. He belonged with her and she belonged with him.

Rhone wasn’t sure when he’d decided to claim his thief for his own, but she was his as much as he was hers. Part of him must have sensed it the moment she’d pulled a knife at him in the middle of his palace, but it had been sealed the moment he’d brought her to his apartment. 

He never wanted her to leave.

Feeling stronger with each step that brought him closer to wherever his elusive thief was hiding, Rhone’s pace quickened until he was walking through the white-out storm that was building outside. The weather made him anxious for Kali’s chances without and he hurried in the direction of his apartment, using his memory of the path more than his eyes.

Juno and Freya stayed close, guiding him toward the welcoming warmth of his apartment while he began to plan how he would begin his hunt. Though it annoyed him to speak to him so soon after he’d taken him from Kali, Rhone knew Stryker would have the men and horses that could help him find Kali before she was disappeared for good. The spymaster might even know where she was staying in Kharos.

First, he needed money and better clothes if he was going to be searching through the night for his lost female. Someone had removed his weapons with his bloodied armor and he didn’t enjoy being defenseless in the city at night. 

Stamping his boots to break loose the snow, Rhone unlocked the door to his apartment and made his way up the stairs, tossing his coat onto his couch. It felt empty and quiet without the welcoming grin of Kali padding around in one of his shirts she’d stolen. He pretended like her continued thefts of his clothes annoyed him, but each time he saw her surrounded in his scent, looking like a claimed female, something in him warmed.

Moving briskly through his home, Rhône stepped into his bedroom to change into warmer clothes, but froze in shock in the doorway. 

There, curled up on the sheets still mussed from the last time they’d slept there, her head buried in the pillow he’d used last as if his scent could chase away the nightmares that feathered across in delicate frowns, was Kali. 

Relief thundered in his veins at the sight of her—here, healthy—enough that his lungs struggled for air. He scanned her relaxed form greedily, checking for injuries and finding his own breath in the steady rise and fall of her chest. One arm remained outstretched to the door, as if in a subconscious invitation that he was powerless to ignore. 

She’d come back.

The thought made his knees weak with relief and a happiness so wild and consuming that he felt his body moving forward before his mind could register the choice. A quick gesture kept Juno and Freya in the living room and he clicked the bedroom door shut behind him before padding towards the bed. 

Her face was relaxed in sleep and Rhone frowned at the dark bruises that curved beneath her eyes as evidence of her exhaustion. She must have trekked back to Kharos without stopping from the massacre in the woods. The silver of her hair was darkened to grey with the dampness left behind from her bath and curled around her face in soft waves that were usually tamed in a braid. She’d was wearing another one of his shirts--one of his favorites, truth be told--and nothing else, exposing the length of her muscular legs where the blankets were thrown back.

She was beautiful.

He wondered how anyone could taste her lips, hear her thoughts, and look at her smiling without falling love with her.

Unable to resist, Rhone ran a gentle finger across her cheek relishing the warm silk of her skin. In a blur of speed almost too fast for his eyes to track, Kali had her hands around the knife she’d ‘hidden’ under her pillow and pressed the razor sharp edge to his neck. 

There was a beat where he just stared at her. Watched the wild grey of her eyes go from vicious warrior to a nervous female in less than a heartbeat.

She shifted her grip on the dagger and moved it away from him just as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m so sorry. I--I didn’t expect you to be here,” she stuttered. “Shouldn’t you be at the palace?” Her fingers twisted nervously in her shirt, trying to pull it down to cover those glorious legs.

“I came to find you,” Rhone said easily. Instead of backing away as she was attempting to do, he settled onto the bed, letting his body crowd hers until she gave ground.

Kali blinked in surprise before she seemed to remember just why he would be searching for her. That stubborn little chin tilted up in an angle designed to tell him she meant business. It made him want to kiss that look right off her face. 

“I told you not to look for me,” she growled but without much heat.

Rhone took that as a good sign and stretched out onto his bed, letting the length of his body block her in slightly. He missed sleeping next to her, he realized. It didn’t seem to matter that they’d only slept in the same bed a few times--his body and mind felt more relaxed now than any healers’ magic could have achieved. “I never agreed to that,” he replied with an exaggerated wince to drum up some of her sympathy.

“You should be back at the palace.” Kali hesitated, then reached over him to help arrange the pillows so he could sit more comfortably.

“This is my home.” Rhone took a moment to enjoy the press of her soft curves against him while she fussed over the blankets. “I thought you were done with me… so why are you here, Kali?” he asked gently.

She froze, the confidence she’d mustered earlier disappearing as quickly as he knew she could. Silvery lashes drifted down as her eyes focused on where his bandages were disguised by his shirt. When she spoke, her voice was so damned vulnerable that Rhone had to clench his hands into fists to keep from sweeping her into his arms. “I had no where else to go…”

“Then stay.”

Kali’s head jerked up and he watched her mouth open and close in shock. Slowly, he sat up until their faces were only inches apart and there was nothing to shield her from the sincerity in his eyes. He wanted to hold on to her, anchor her so she wouldn’t run, wouldn’t disappear again, but he wouldn’t build a new cage to replace the old one.

Most of all, Rhone wanted her to choose him.

“You’re not safe with me,” she whispered and he watched old nightmares flicker through her eyes.

“Baby,” he purred and tucked a stand of her silky hair behind one delicately pointed ear. “I’m not happy without you.” Words were not his weapons of choice, but he would use everything he could to keep her here. “I want you to stay. Here. With me. Forever--or as long as you’ll have me.” Kali’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears that he wanted to kiss away, but he forced himself to continue. “Together we can defeat anything, just like we’ve done every time you stopped running and trusted me to watch your back. Stay with me and we can love each other until the past doesn’t matter anymore.”

A tear slipped free from her lashes to drip down her cheek and she brushed it away with shaky hands. “Rhone, I--I don’t know how to do that.”

“Neither do I. We’ll learn together,” he said with a grin, then paused. “If this is what you want. If this is what you choose.” Kali leapt off the bed in a burst of nervous energy, pacing the length of the room while he watched. Rhone sat up carefully and dropped his feet to the floor so he could watch her move. “What do you want, Kali?”

“I want--” She stopped. Tore her fingers through her hair and cursed quietly. “Never mind what I want.” Her voice was quieter now, but no less powerful. “What do you want?”

“You.” Always you.

Slowly, so slowly that he thought she might change her mind and race for the door, Kali walked towards him until her thighs pressed against his knees. Her fingers trailed over the long strands of his hair that hung loosely around his face because he hadn’t bothered to tie it back after he woke up. Rhone tried not to close his eyes in bliss when she ran her fingers through the thick mass, her expression shifting too quickly for him to interpret.

“If,” she began and Rhone found himself holding his breath. “If we do this, there’s no going back. I am broken and scarred and you deserve so much better than what I can give you. I don’t even know if I’m capable of loving someone else.” Her voice broke on the word and his fingers tightened around her hips in an instinctive gesture of comfort. Kali took a deep breath and he wonder if she knew how badly she was shaking when she finally asked, “Do you still want me?”

“Gods yes,” he said and pulled her into his arms.

 

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Hooray for happy chapters! Special shout out to those of you who have taken the time to review each chapter--I LOVE hearing from you guys. Thank you so much for continuing to read along with Kali and Rhone's story!


	35. Cherry Wine

This chapter was written with Hozier's "Cherry Wine" as the background and inspiration for the general vibe here. So if you enjoy listening to music while you read, I highly recommend it.

Also, this chapter is a little smutty, but also contains some developments for Rhone and Kali's relationship so fair warning. Hope you enjoy!  
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Rhone had never felt himself with trembling hands as he traced the curves of a lover, but with Kali’s grey eyes on him his heart shook in his chest. She submitted to him with a grace that moved him, his wild wicked woman surrendering to him, welcoming him into bed. 

 

He hovered above her now, unable to tear his gaze from hers - a new world of emotion filling the shell of his body with every heated breath shared between them. A gentle amusement tugged on the corners of her lips and he tasted them without hesitation. Her skin was addicting and he trailed kiss after kiss down her jaw, around her tiny throat. 

 

So fragile, so small. 

 

Instincts swarmed him to protect her, to claim her. 

 

And he understood that what he felt was more than anything he’d ever felt before. 

 

Her eyes closed, her head tilting back to expose the flesh of her throat to his lips, his teeth, and he continued to descend as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. 

 

She reacted to his every move in his bed the same way she had when they fought together. Her body reacting to each brush of his fingers, instinctively pressing closer and opening herself to his caress. Pleasure and something deeper thrummed against his mind, the curling warmth making his breath come faster as Kali dropped her shields without hesitation to let him feel everything she did. It made something in him twist and reform into a wild heat that consumed him.

 

Rhone had been an island for so long he hadn’t noticed the day the two of them had become a team. It was something he wasn’t sure he would survive without ever again. 

 

He wrapped an arm beneath her, feeling every wave of her scars as he pulled his fragile love to him. “Kali,” he breathed, an ardency in his voice he hardly recognized, but hoped would remain. 

 

Her body bowed beneath his touch and her eyes opened for him, the thrill of her attention washing over him like it could erase any sin he’d ever committed. 

 

Rhone claimed her lips once more, slowly, fully. His need called to him, rolling against her and he knew she felt him completely. Still, he found the strength to pull away, “I want you to cut my hair.”

 

She blinked, passion fading into something fragile, hopeful. Her face crumpled into a foreign thing and one of his hands flew to her cheek to comfort her. He had never been one to hold back, to regret, but there was almost a pain in her gaze as a tear spilled from just one of her eyes. 

 

Kali wiped it away before he could, sitting up beneath him and scooting to the edge of the bed. He pulled back to give her space and found himself dumbstruck by how hard it was to let her move away from him, to crawl out of bed without him. 

 

He’d never felt such a chill. 

 

Moving quickly, she padded into the washroom, digging through a few drawers before coming back to him and he let the dopey grin at her barely clothed body return to light his face. She had no idea how beautiful she was, moving with a liquid grace that made his body go rigid. Rhone had almost forgotten what he’d told her by the time she had neared the bed and he tried to pull her back into the sheets with him. But she rolled her eyes at him and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him behind her into the bathroom. 

 

She gestured to the toilet and he sat without arguing, without shame. “Do you know what this means to me?” she asked him and he leaned toward her to kiss her collarbones, the swells of her chest. 

 

The reminder of their conversation in the house of murdered man, the way he’d told her the marriage symbols of his tribe without knowing why, made him smile again. Even then, even when he’d thought her to be a reckless criminal, his heart had known the truth of her.

 

“I am yours,” Rhone replied solemnly. 

 

Kali said nothing in return, but he relished in the overflowing magic of her emotions that brushed against his senses as she grabbed the tie holding his long hair together and sliced right through it. The absence of the weight of his hair made him grin like a fool, watching the concentration on her face as she claimed him. Kali trimmed every side of his head carefully, with the same caution and passion he would use when he made love to her the moment she was done. 

 

Rhone waited through every pause, every time she pulled back to see what he looked like after each snip. Amusement swam through him at his woman’s ministrations when he knew full well she was aware he could care less what he looked like. All that mattered was that the rest of the world knew he belonged to her. That he’d chosen her.

 

The breeze of his missing hair felt like the same weightless freedom he felt in Kali’s presence. The second her shears touched the counter, barely out of her fingertips, he wrapped his arms around her and stood, a yip of a sound spilling from her as he carried her back to his bed. 

 

His fingers traced the web of scars that marred the smooth skin of her back beneath her shirt and she flinched, looking ashamed. Rhone kissed the edge of her mouth, then pulled the shirt over her head to expose the physical reminders of the horrors she’d faced. Pressing kisses down her spine and shoulders, he counted each of the scars he’d memorized the night she’d saved Juno. “You’re beautiful, Kali. Don’t hide from me,” he whispered against the largest mark left by the whips.

 

Her eyes remained fixed on the sheets she twisted in her hands. “You knew?” 

 

Rhone loosened his hold so he could tilt her to face him fully and nodded. 

 

“How long have you known of my scars?” she asked, a roughness to her voice he longed to soothe, a slight nerve vibrating through him that she might not forgive him for the invasion. It made him think of the way she’d been so careful to keep her back out of his sight the first time they’d made love.

 

His knuckles found her cheeks in a gentle touch. “Always,” he answered. 

 

She sat up her voice a familiar bite. “And you said nothing?” 

 

“There is nothing to say,” he whispered laying a soft kiss to a thin white line that curved over her shoulder, the first he’d ever seen. “The animal that did this to you is already dead, so I cannot kill them. And I will rip apart anyone who touches you again--other than that, what else is there?”

 

Her chest heaved for a moment and he felt her magic shifting through the air like a living cloud. 

 

“You don’t pity me,” she said, not a question. 

 

Rhone took her face in his hands and kissed her again, savoring the taste like he needed it to live, to breathe. “Only for my addiction to you--you will never be able to get rid of me now.”

 

Kali relaxed in his grip and pulled him onto the bed above her, kissing him with the same fight and fury he’d fallen in love with from her. His hands fell down her silhouette, resting on her hips, his thumbs rolling in heavy circles against the curve of her bones. Her body responded, legs curling around him. 

 

She welcomed him and his heart thundered in his chest. 

 

He tore at the brief underthings she wore until they gave and her body was finally open to him. Her breasts rose and fell to the same rhythm of his leaded breaths and he was filled with the thrill of their symmetry. Her hands fell on his bare chest, weaving in needy swirls across his muscles, over his shoulders and around his back. 

 

Rhone kissed her breasts slowly, in sweet circles around the bud of her nipples before taking them completely, his tongue flicking against the tight, sensitive skin. She clenched beneath him and he felt her flex the depths of her core as his body responded in kind. Rolling his hips against her, Rhone gave an almost feral grin at the soft gasp that fell from her lips. 

 

His hands grabbed her hips and she tightened her legs around him, pulling herself to him. Rhone laced an arm up her back and rose to a sitting position, her lean body wrapped around him entirely as her arms squeezed around his neck. Petal soft lips trailed down the column of his throat and nibbled at the pulse thundering there.

 

He lowered his pants, removing the final boundary between them, and laid her back on the bed, suddenly overcome with how precious this moment was to him. 

 

Kali pulled him down to her trailing biting kisses along his collarbone as he drank in her scent from the crook of her neck. His fingers wove through the power rippling off her skin as he touched her - her stomach, her hips… He opened her thighs and she complied, linking her heels around his waist. 

 

Rhone’s trembling returned and he let it show. There was nothing he wanted to keep from her, nothing he wanted for his life that he did not want her involved in. 

 

Her small hand found his cheek, her sweet, knowing eyes were a balm to his overwhelmed heart. 

 

He kissed her fiercely, entering her in the same breath. She bucked beneath him and the joy of the moment burst through him, the heat prickling his naked skin. He tasted her pleasure, the rolling of her need - her love. 

 

Rhone moved in her and she turned and ebbed and flowed and crashed beneath him. He suckled on her neck, her breast as her fingers clawed down his chest. Tears fell down her face and he only pressed his cheek to hers, feeling their falling together as the waves of his motions and the weight of this moment moved them to a new place, a new realm. 

 

She was a dream - a fallen angel sent to bless and torment him. He wanted every ounce she had to give. 

 

A deeper heat dropped in his chest and he pulled his face back to look into hers, knowing she would pick up on his emotions almost instantly. Her eyes turned heavy lidded, a glint of curiosity in them as her body arched under his. 

 

“Say you’re mine,” he growled, ignoring the neediness in his voice as a single bead of sweat dripped down his forehead from his now short hair. 

 

A cruel, wicked grin captured her face and he mirrored her, the pleasure of her body building in him with every slow thrust as he took her. But his claim of her body did not make her his and he watched her with fiery uncertainty as she decided his torture. 

 

But for once, Kali did not fight him--she did not deny him. 

 

“I am yours,” she whispered and only then did he realize what those words meant to her beyond his own selfish need for her. His eyes fell shut, the gravity of her feelings pulling him under the surface of everything he felt for her. 

 

He kissed her again and again--desperate to show her he was worth everything she was giving him in this moment until she bucked and crashed under him in her own world of wild pleasure and finally, he could do the same. 

 

When their hearts finally began to slow, Rhone settled her into the curve of his body, trailing soothing strokes of his hand along her back and the bend of her waist. They fit together like they were made for each other--her head pressed against his chest over his thundering pulse, his arm wrapped around her tiny body. He smiled up at the ceiling, utterly at peace with this moment.

 

“I love you, Kali,” he murmured into the silky silver of her hair. His thief froze and he felt her lashes brush against his chest as she blinked in surprise. 

 

Then, like the brilliant warmth of the sun in the Summer lands, the room filled with the wild light of her happiness.  
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Thank you for sticking with me for another spicy chapter of The Thief and the Soldier! I love love love each of you who have taken the time to leave me a review and let me get to know you, the reader, a little better. Thank you thank you thank you! You are all so wonderful and I'm so glad that you've been enjoying this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.


	36. Is it true?

Happiness was the most dangerous and fragile of all emotions. It was the force that allowed people to create and love and experience the beauty of the world around them. In her lifetime, Kali had witnessed true happiness in the eyes of a child and in the heated looks exchanged between new mates. To be happy was to have a well of strength that burned like a light amidst the chaotic emotions that swirled through the city.

It also hurt the worst when it was ripped away from you.

Kali could feel the growing tension in her mind each time she looked at Rhone. Looked at the male who made her soul sing with joy, but should never be hers. No matter what the fragile bond that permanently tied her heart to his might think.

She should tell him. Tell him he was her mate.

To do so could ruin everything between them. Even if Rhone wasn’t a High Lord’s son, he was still far too good for her. He could reject her offer of her heart and loyalty and send her back onto the streets where she belonged. He could destroy her.

In all honesty, he probably should send her on her way before he was hurt again--no matter how stubbornly he refused to accept the threat she posed.

It was a struggle to force those thoughts from her mind as she walked beside Rhone up the main steps of the Winter Palace. To remind herself that he’d chosen her. Even after seeing the brutal monsters that followed in her wake. Even after seeing the monster she truly was.

He’d woken her up with gentle kisses that morning and the open affection in her eyes had made her want to stay in their bed all day. Unfortunately, he’d informed her reluctantly, he needed to speak to his father about what they’d discovered on their ill-fated scouting trip. The reminder of Rhône’s injuries and the unknown victims lying beneath the earth was enough to dim the light fluttering in her chest from the night before. 

Juno was a warm weight against her side and Kali let her fingers sink into her soft fur, centering herself against the turbulent emotions of the city. As they moved deeper into the walls of the palace, she breathed a sigh of relief that the constant press of other minds against hers was finally ebbing. She still felt weak after her burnout and the wild push of the crowd’s reactions to the world around them felt like it was scraping against a raw wound.

Rhone was more relaxed now too, even stopping to chat with the guards on duty near the main entrance. She looked up curiously when one of the guards had a sudden spike of anxiety.

“My lord,” he said, “Thrace requests your presence in the receiving room--he said you were supposed to meet him about an issue with Hybern.”

Immediately, her prince was back to the stiff shouldered soldier that she’d first met on the palace grounds and he nodded abruptly before moving forward once more. Annoyance and frustration bloomed in him and she instinctively brushed her hand over his in a silent show of support, hoping that this was nothing more than a disagreement between siblings. Rhone’s eyes flashed to hers for a moment and she felt him relax slightly under her hand.

The thought that she could ease his moods so easily made a small seed of happiness bloom in her chest. She looped her arm through his and smiled up at him as they entered the receiving room where the Winter Court greeted their guests.

“Rhone,” a haughty voice called out from the massive carved marble throne that dominated one wall of the room. She tried not to flinch as those icy blue eyes looked her over from the top of her messy braid to the scuffed leather boots on her feet. Thrace gave her an annoyed look, “What is she doing here?”

Rhone stepped forward, letting his body block hers partially. “I don’t need to explain my companions to you.”

Kali tried not to smirk or stick her tongue out at Rhone’s oldest brother at her mate’s one. Instead, she watched Thrace give his brother an amused look before shrugging. “Indeed.”

It was a casual enough dismissal of such a blatantly disrespectful comment from Rhone that she frowned. Tentatively Kali opened her shields enough to feel the room, but only caught a vicious sort of a anticipation coming from the Winter Court’s heir.

Thrace gestured to someone standing in the wings out of their line of sight. “Come, Delorea,” he said politely. “My little brother must have forgotten that he was supposed to meet with you for lunch again today...”

A delicate female moved gracefully to Thrace’s side, her emerald green gown whispering over the stone floors in an elegant wave. Wine red hair curled gently around her face and Kali tried not to wince as the sight of that shade made her stomach churn. Then she curtseyed to the two males before rising to her full height and exposed a face of regal beauty that smiled sweetly at Rhone for a moment before her kohl lined eyes flicked to Kali.

Her voice made shivers crawl across Kali’s skin and bile rise in her throat as Delorea smiled with predatory intent at her, “I have so been looking forward to meeting you.”

Kali made a soft sound of horror as a wild scream seemed to build in her throat, choking her. She stared into the face of her nightmare come alive with shock and panic, her mind struggling to understand what was in front of her. For a moment it was Amarantha who stood, smirking and watching her with a familiar predatory gleam in her eyes. Enjoying the fear that even Rhone and Thrace were beginning to notice.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look past the evil lurking in the golden depths of those eyes and find the traits that marked her as someone else. 

Delorea was prettier than Amarantha had been, her features more delicate and even. Her skin lacked the subtle pattern of freckles that had appeared after years marching with Hybern’s army on the dead queen’s face. Even her hair wasn’t the same iconic red that had been Amarantha’s pride and glory.

The malice in those eyes was all too familiar though.

The last time Kali had seen the other female was the day that Amarantha had exiled her from Under the Mountain. Delorea had been furious, bristling with barely controlled rage that smashed against the mental shields of Kali’s mind. 

Amarantha, after all, was a strategist that would never let herself risk losing a valuable tool like a natural born empath--so she’d trained two.

Now Delorea stood smiling her cheshire cat smile as she watched the myriad of emotions cross Kali’s face even as she rebuilt her mental shields to try to keep her feelings her own. Protectively she stepped in front of Rhône, as though her presence could keep Delorea ‘s magic at bay. “What are you doing here?” she managed.

Rhône shifted in confusion. “You know each other?”

“Kali and I go way back,” Delorea chuckled with a cruel gleam in her eyes. 

A twinge of guilt hit her at the look in Rhône’s eyes at that revelation. He frowned and turned to face Kali, “How do you know Delorea?”

Kali chose her words carefully, “We were raised together for a time.” Delorea’s eyes laughed at her for all that she left out in that simple statement, but she ignored it. “What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“Didn’t Rhône tell you? We’re to be married!” Satisfaction was laced through each syllable even as Kali felt her gut drop to the floor in mute horror.

No. This couldn’t be. He would have told her.

“What are you talking about?” Kali asked, disbelief evident.

Delorea’s teeth flashed in a predator’s smile as she went in for the kill. “We’re mates.”

Kali’s eyes flew to Rhone’s and what she saw there made her heart lurch.

A chasm seemed to open in front of her as her muscles bunched with the urge to run and run and never return. Distantly Kali realized she was panting and trembling like she’d run for miles in the space of two steps. Juno rumbled with a silent growl against her leg and she felt Freya move to guard her back in a silent show of support.

How could this be? a small voice in her mind keened, trapped between the words he’d told her and the triumph in her enemy’s eyes. 

There was a moment of silence as Kali felt the world around her shift and she stumbled on wobbly legs. A river of ice curled around her ankles, crawling up her body as she realized what Rhone had been hiding from her even as he kissed and claimed to care for her. That ice seemed to bleed into her soul until she could sweep away her riotous emotions where they could not distract her, could not hurt her.

Pain could come later--not here, not among her enemies.

She cobbled together the broken pieces of her heart and used her battered pride as the mortar, drawing up her defenses like a castle under siege. 

Kali wished for the burn of anger, the boil in her blood that burn away the wash of agony that was looking into her mate’s eyes and watching her hope for the future wither and die. She wished for heat, but all she felt was the cold wind of the Winter Court blowing through her heart. Seeping into her bones until there was nothing but the memory of his sunshine. 

Rhone reached a hand out to her, worry and guilt marring the blue-green of his eyes. She stared into them, still willing this to be some kind of joke. A mistake.

“Is it true?” she asked with a voice barely above a whisper.

He opened his mouth to explain, but she could see the answer to her question written all over his face. “Kali, I--” he broke off and ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sound. “I wanted to tell you…”

“Oh, isn’t this sweet,” Thrace said from behind Rhone. “The girl thought she was more than just another one of your infamous flings.”

Rhone’s eyes never shifted from hers, silently begging her to understand. To forgive him.

The memory of what Thrace had said about Rhone meeting Delorea again made ice curling her veins. She eyed him with new understanding, “You’ve been meeting with her?”

He winced slightly, “Yes.”

“How long?” She bit out.

“Since the day I met you.”

Kali tilted her chin up, gathering the tattered remains of her pride and broken heart. At the corner of her eye she could see Delorea smiling as her magic curled around the room like the coils of a snake. Touching her mate in a familiar caress. 

The satisfaction in her eyes made Kali’s blood boil. With a burst of strength, she yanked her arm out of Rhone’s grasp and stepped out of his reach. “Don’t touch me.”

Anger was easier for her and protected her from the silent agony in his gaze or the burn of tears in hers. Rhone’s hand slowly fell to his side as she took another step away from him, then another. 

“I hope you enjoyed your games, your highness,” she managed flatly, still reeling from what she’d been too lovestruck to realize. “I’m done.”

“Kali,” he whispered and the emotion in his voice made her want to weep. 

Instead, she tucked that grief and pain deep within her shields and looked at him with a cold fury. “Consider this the end of...whatever we were. If you come near me again, I’ll gut you.”

Juno started to move with her, but she moved her hand in a jerky command and the wolf stopped a few steps away. Freya whined, but she refused to look at them. Refused to think about how willing she would have been to stay at Rhone’s side like his faithful beasts.

Turning on her heel, Kali stalked out of the room without bothering to bow to Thrace or Delorea. They could rot for all she cared. By the time the door to the receiving hall closed behind her, she was running, pouring all her hurt and sorrow into every once of speed her body could produce.

Deep within her heart, she felt that tiny, bright tie that linked her to Rhone flicker and go out.


	37. Stone Cold

Each step away from Rhône and his lies felt like a knife in her chest. It seemed a miracle that she could still draw breath, that her heart kept beating through the painful throb in her head. That her chest stubbornly continued to rise and fall when her brain seemed frozen in the moment all of her hopes for the future died. 

People leapt out of her path as she raced along the icy paths, not bothering to look where she was headed—knowing only that she needed to get away from the winter palace and smug smile on Delorea’s face. 

Why, why had she been so stupid?

Humiliation churned in her gut at the memory of their faces as she’d realized the truth she’d been too lovestruck to figure out on her own. The emotion seemed to pulse around her like a cloud and she watched more than one stranger fall to their knees, tears streaming down their faces as she passed. 

Good, she thought venomously. Someone else should be suffering as she was. 

Kali found her pace slowing as she reached the last place she wanted to be—the tiny woodshop that had become her home in the last days. A sob threatened to burst from her at the thought. Her first home had been a front to ensure the spellbook wasn’t lost. It had all just been a game. 

There was nothing there for her now. 

Through the window of the shop, she watched Briar frown worriedly at the sight of her tear streaked face and start towards her but she was in motion again before he could clear the counter. She couldn’t bear the thought of another person she’d trusted being a part of Delorea’s schemes. Rhône would no doubt fill him in on every humiliating moment in the throne room. 

Night began to fall around her and she continued to wander aimlessly through Kharos. Kali contemplated taking the spellbook from its hiding place, but couldn’t risk one of Delorea’s allies following her to the location. So she wandered through the city like the ghost of the smiling female who’d prowled happily at her mate’s side only a few hours before. 

That foolish girl had been replaced by the cold female that had been honed in Amarantha’s court. 

The hollow sound of wood beneath her feet made her pause for the first time and take stock of where she was. A new wave of grief hit her at the sight of the bridge where she’d risked her life to save Juno. The place where she’d leapt into the freezing waters still sat broken and open to the raging Sidhe below. 

Slowly, Kali walked to the open edge of the bridge and sat so her legs dangled over the open air. Part of her considered leaping into that space and letting the icy waves drag her under as they should have that day. If Rhône hadn’t pulled her out, she would have died before she knew her mate had betrayed her. Would have died a hero of a sort and maybe paid for some of the sins she’d committed beneath the mountain. 

It was a betrayal, she realized as her numb mind began to put the pieces together and a hot anger began to warm her cold limbs. All those mornings when he’d been going to take care of his ‘responsibilities’ he’d really been meeting Delorea. 

At least the mystery of who had orchestrated the murders and the bloody massacre in the woods was solved. Though she wasn’t in Amarantha’s court when Kali was punished, Delorea would have taken pleasure in each detail of her pain. She was also intimately aware of every spell contained in Amarantha’s precious book. No doubt she’d been harvesting power for weeks from each of the dead victims scattered around Kharos.

Did Rhône know what Delorea planned to do with the spellbook? Or had he just been her lover?

The thought of Rhône running his fingers over the creamy skin of Delorea’s chest made red dance in her vision and her fingers clench around the scarred wood. The very idea that he could touch another female after spending the night in her bed, after knowing what he meant to her even without the matebond dangling over their head made her wanted to scream in rage. 

Pain welcomed her like an old friend and settled over her soul, digging its claws into the old wounds. 

She was a fool. Rhône had made it clear that he wanted only one thing from her and, like an idiot, she’d given him everything. Tears stained her cheeks and froze in the icy wind that ripped through her hair like the storm in her heart. She welcomed the cold and the stillness of the winter night and let it settle deep into her soul, ignoring the way her fingers went numb and her limbs began to shake.

Surely Rhône would never agree to help Amarantha return to life. She had to believe some of what she’d felt in the last week was real. That his horror at the sight of those corpses had been honest. 

Kali toyed with the knife she wore at her hip and stared down at the water below. If she had any sense, she would retrieve the book and get the hell out of Kharos before any of the guards were sent to find her. She could be halfway to the Summer Court before Rhône and Delorea realized she’d left the city. 

But Rhône would never let her escape with the spellbook. 

She knew it with the same certainty that made her believe he wouldn’t help Delorea use the spellbook for more evil. . He was too honorable to do such a destructive act. Just like he was too stubborn to let her leave the Winter Court with the spellbook in hand. 

Considering her options, Kali clenched her jaw and stood. Delorea would be coming for her now and the book was no longer safe with her. She needed to move it somewhere safe and make a run for it. If she had any luck, Delorea would follow the trail she lay for her and miss the book’s actual location. 

There was no reason to stay here anymore.

 

A few minutes later, she was pulling a carefully waterproofed package out of the sewers beneath the city, crinkling her nose at the intense smell. No one ever bothered to look for priceless treasures in one of the most disgusting areas in the city--they expected thieves to pawn or keep their jewels in the same vaults they’d been stolen from. She was much too clever for such amatuer plots. Part of her wanted to laugh at the memory of Rhône’s disgusted face when she’d dumped him here and wondered how that expression would change if he knew she’d taken him right to the book that night. 

But that part of her was smothered by the twisting rage and grief she still felt.

Tossing away the oiled leather she’d used to protect Amarantha’s legacy, Kali shoved the book into her bag and stepped back into the cold. This was the part she dreaded most of all. Her feet moved through the snow with a surety that felt foreign to her now and she was standing outside of the woodshop and apartment far too quickly.

The lights were off above and below and it was enough to let her release a long, shaky breath. She could do this. She had to do this. Getting rid of the book would release her from the last of the ties keeping her in Kharos.

Using the drainpipe attached to the side of the building that she’d marked as a possible escape route days before, Kali quickly scaled the wall to the window that led to the bathroom. The lock had already been carefully broken so all she had to do was lift the seal and slip inside.

Being inside his home hurt. Hurt like every step peeled away another layer of skin and flesh. Teeth and bone.

Kali settled into the safety of numb nothingness, pushing away her feelings into that dark pit that lingered within her. Until she could move forward into the bedroom and face the evidence of everything that had been ripped away from her.

Ignoring the bed that dominated one of the walls, she ripped Rhone’s shirt off of her and through it across the room to land in a heap beside the door. The uniform she’d worn back from the scouting trip was clean and dry, hanging in the closet where she’d left it the first night back. It would be useful for her plans to get out of the city unannounced.

The leather armor was stiff and unwieldy after being frozen and re-thawed so she tossed it aside--if she needed armor for protection she was already lost. Walking through the bedroom to the kitchen, Kali grabbed the notepad from the counter and scrawled a few words down on the pad. She would have to hope that Rhone would see the danger in Delorea before it was too late for Prythian.

Delorea’s presence in Kharos was a perplexing riddle. It was possible that her old rival had been tracking Kali for a while, waiting for her to make a play for the spellbook--or Fletcher, her informant, had sold the information on the book’s location to more than one buyer. Either way, she had to have connections in the Winter Court to be able to bring mercenaries into the capital city and maneuver her into the palace.  
It made her think of the way Delorea’s powers had curled possessively around the icy-eyed heir to the Winter Court. Thrace had been openly hostile to Kali each time he met her and was more than eager to pair Delorea and Rhone together. Maybe Thrace was more involved than she’d initially believed...

Kali put the spell book on the center of the kitchen table with the note carefully on top of the worn cover and sighed. Truth be told, she was glad to be rid of this damned thing.

But she still lingered for a few more moments, unsure if she was more upset at the thought that Rhone might not come or that he would and she would have to face him again. Eventually, she took a final breath of cedar and ice before she walked back to the bathroom to sneak out the way she’d come.

Better to end things where they began.

 

It was becoming almost boring to sneak into the Winter palace now. The soldiers outside hadn’t even questioned her when she walked past the guard outpost and into the main building. Just another scout on their way to their shift or perhaps to check in with their supervisor after a long day.

She had no intention of changing their minds.

Instead, Kali moved up the grand staircase with her face carefully tilted away from any passerby--she even bowed when she passed Phinn on his way back to his rooms. He didn’t even pause to look twice. Excellent.

The only problem with her plan to investigate Thrace was that she had no idea where to even look for him. If she ran into Delorea again, one of them would end up dead and she doubted the palace guards would hesitate to kill a random thief that attacked a noblewoman. Even worse if Rhone was still with the two of them.

Maybe she should just look for Thrace’s office and search his papers instead…

A wave of gut churning malevolence made goosebumps break out over her skin and she barely had time to duck into an alcove before Thrace walked past her. The heir was a maelstrom of nasty energy that made her want to dive into a bath and never come out. Cautiously, Kali peaked her head around the door and watched him stalk down the hallway toward the royal wing.

Just what was he up to in that kind of mood?

She scanned the hallways for anyone else before carefully following him down the private hallways of the castle. As they walked, Kali wracked her brain for where in the castle Thrace could be going with such a violent flurry of emotion. Even she was surprised when he dismissed a small group of guards and entered into the private library of the High Lord himself and she hesitated in the shadows of the hallways as an upsetting thought occurred to her.

What if Kallias was part of this?

Just as quickly as she thought it, Kali dismissed the idea. If Kallias wanted Amarantha’s spellbook, he could have easily taken it from his own vaults whenever he wanted to. It soothed the broken parts of her soul that the kind, sad eyed male she’d watched from afar Under the Mountain wasn’t a murderer--even if one of his sons might be.

Mind made up, she crept closer to the study and pressed her ear against the wood, hoping to hear some of the conversation inside.

“I didn’t expect you so late,” Kallias’ cool voice said affectionately and she heard the soft sound of liquid being pour into a glass.

“Don’t worry this won’t take long.” Something in Thrace’s voice made her reach for the handle of the door and shove it open, nerves jangling with alarm. 

Kallias turned at the sound and opened his mouth in a question he never managed to complete. Kali saw the malice in Thrace’s eyes reflected in the gleaming silver of the blade in his hand and screamed, “No!”

She felt the burst of pain and the ripple of satisfaction in a dizzying rush from each of the males in front of her. Kallias staggered, hands scrabbling for the blade in his back instinctively. Thrace started to reach for the sword on his belt, but Kali sprinted forward with all of her might and slammed her shoulder into his gut, trying to topple the larger male over.

Thrace grabbed her by her hair and slung her across the room into the large french doors, leading to the balcony outside. Glass shattered around her, slicing thin grooves into her skin as her body skidded across the icy stones. Kali grunted, shaking her head to dislodge the shards of glass clinging to her and forced herself to her knees when the sound of boots came closer.

“Thief,” Thrace sneered. “You should have stayed away while you had the chance.”

“You’re a murderer,” Kali panted, woozily getting to her feet with the help of the stone railing. “You killed your own father.”

Thrace smiled, pointing his blade at her heart. “I don’t plan to let him die alone...Rhone’s next.”

Sound seemed to fade away as her focus narrowed on the smirking male in front of her. Without hesitation, Kali pulled the long knife she’d tucked into her belt free and lunged for him.


	38. Too Late

Rhone felt every step on his way to his father’s rooms like a pound of his heart, the thrill of what he was going to say - what he was going to give up - pushing him onward. He’d left Freja and Juno behind in his apartment, no longer trusting the palace to have a safe place for him or his beloved. 

Left them to guard the damned book and Mother forsaken note she’d left him.

Five words. Five damned words were all she’d left him before she disappeared.

Ice popped and cracked in the air around him as his temper and self hatred spiked again. He should have chased after her before she’d run away--not punched Thrace in the face and told Delorea to go to hell for what they’d done. He should have told her the truth before it got to that point. He should have told her he’d chosen her even if Delorea was his mate.

Some part of Rhone hadn’t believed Kali would really leave. Maybe disappear for a few days and come back to cuss him up and down one side of Kharos to the other--but never leave him. 

He’d been searching for her for hours, trying to find some sign of the wild, wicked female who’d stolen his heart when he’d broken hers. Rhone had even gone to Stryker and begged him to help search for her. But all the spies in Kharos couldn’t seem to find any trace of his little thief when she didn’t want to be found. 

He would find her though--he had to.

He remembered the way Kali looked at him when she’d seen Delorea, when she’d witnessed another of Thrace’s endless games, and knew he had to put an end to it all. He had never been interested in a throne, nor a crown. He was not a leader. If that meant he and Kali had to find somewhere else to go, they would. 

He knew they would thrive together anywhere. 

The hall that led to his father’s room was empty of its usual patrols and Rhone’s guard flew up. Magic roiled within him in a sudden tempest, shooting through him with a powerful anticipation. 

Something was wrong. 

Approaching the door to his father’s rooms silently, he noticed the door was barely ajar, just enough for him to peek through it though he could hardly see anything through the thin slit. The small sounds of a scuffle flitted through the open door. And then his eyes fell on an object flat on the floor in Kallias’ sitting area.

A single outstretched hand reached for him from the edge of the desk, marked only by the simple golden ring Viviane had so lovingly gifted. 

A body.

He threw the door open, not bothering with tact or strategy as magic flew into a rage inside him. His eyes fell to the body limp on the floor - his father. Rhone raced forward, settling on his knees beside Kallias ignoring the blood that stained his clothes from the deep wound in his father’s chest.

“Thrace…” Kallias whispered and Rhone clutched his hand, trying to comfort him while looking for a way to stop the bleeding. Ripping his coat off, he pressed the warm wool against the wound, hissing out a curse when he smelled the sickly sweet scent of bloodbane on the blade. The assassin hadn’t wanted to take any chances against a High Lord.

“Too late.”

Rhone cursed again. “No, I’ll summon a healer. You have to stay awake.”

“Take care of your mother,” Kallias breathed, eyes glassy with pain, “Tell her I--”

A gust of freezing wind distracted him from the sight of his father struggles for breath beginning to slow and he looked to the massive french doors, glass shattered and swinging open in the winter wind.

And on the balcony that connected to the massive common room was Thrace, blood on his hands, as he fought with Kali.

His Kali. 

She was moving in a blur of deadly motion, her expressive face set in a quiet fury that told him she knew why his father’s corpse was cooling nearby. Against Thrace’s massive body, she seemed painfully small and he felt his heart lurch as she darted closer and met that heavy blade with her smaller ones. 

Rhone had been filled with rage by his brother countless times, but to have attempted to kill their father… The ice that filled him was furious, riotous.

It spilled from him like a wave, spreading across the floor and walls to where they still fought.

His world stopped as Kali noticed him, turned her face toward him for only a moment, and Thrace took advantage, grabbing her by the throat with one massive hand. Rhône let out a helpless sound as his brother pressed his blade to the soft skin of her neck - the same neck he’d kissed with a reverent worship in their bed only a day ago. 

“Let her go,” he roared, his power whipping around him with excess energy as the ice thickened and cracked around his feet, spreading through the room. 

Bright grey eyes locked on his, wide with pain and panic, while her hands scratched and fought against the hold on her neck even as she began to choke. Fear for her swamped him as he saw the acceptance in her face, the knowledge that she would not survive this. Her determination to atone for the sins she believed still stained her soul. 

One hand lifted towards him, as though she could reach him from this distance. Rhone stepped towards her instinctively, wanting to rip the skin from Thrace’s body for touching her. Hurting her. 

Thrace laughed mockingly at the new tension in the air as Kali dangled from his hold. “I’ll never understand your fascination for this puny female.”

“Don’t hurt her.”

Rhone almost couldn’t recognize the venomous fury that turned his voice into a gravelly rasp--it was much easier to grasp than the clawing panic that he couldn’t seem to shake. It didn’t matter what kind of monster he became, not when he was watching Kali’s struggles begin to slow and weaken as her lungs struggled for air. His hands clenched into helpless fists at his sides as his mind struggled for some way to get her away from Thrace.

“I’ll never understand you brother,” Thrace said with a shake of his head and a mocking smile. “How could a prince of Winter feel anything for Amarantha’s favorite daughter?”

The world around him seemed to freeze in place as his eyes slid from his brother’s to meet the agonized stare of the female he loved. Tears were streaming silently from her grey eyes and he felt himself go numb. Why wasn’t she denying it? Why wasn’t she telling him that this was another one of Thrace’s games?

I’ve seen it before Under the Mountain.

Amarantha slaughtered my parents.

I’m a monster.

Each memory burned like poison tempered with the sting of betrayal. She’d been leading him along with half truths that only hinted at her real relationship with Amarantha. How could he have missed it?

Thrace barked out a laugh, watching the silent conversation between them. “Oh, this is too much! She never told you who she was?”

With barely a grunt of effort, he threw Kali painfully to her knees on the hard stone at his feet. She coughed, clutching her middle as she dragged air into her aching lungs. Before Rhone could even think about going to her, Thrace grabbed a handful of her thick silver hair and yanked her head back so he could press the blade of his sword against her exposed throat. 

“Go on, girl,” he crooned, “Tell him the truth.”

Kali winced as the blade cut a thin line of red as she swallowed. Her eyes pleaded with Rhone as she slowly began to speak. “She,” the thief paused and seemed to force herself to say the next word, “Amarantha murdered my parents and raised me Under the Mountain.” Her voice was so quiet that Rhone had to strain to hear her over the howling wind. The crackling ice. 

When Rhone didn’t speak, Kali’s eyes closed as if she couldn’t stand to look at the expression on her face. He felt like he was seeing a stranger for the first time.

“He knows that much, I can tell,” Thrace growled and pressed the knife closer. “Get to the good part.”

“She wanted me to use my magic to help her,” Kali said dully, her head bowing in acceptance of Rhone’s judgement, his scorn. “She pitted me against Delorea to see which one of us would be the most useful for her court. To see which of us was willing to do anything. Give everything to her.”

The words seemed to escape her then and Rhone took another step forward as Thrace shook her roughly, his voice like a whip. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

When Kali’s head lifted again, there was a helpless fury in her eyes as she stared at the ground in front of her. Daring him to hate her as much as she hated herself. 

“I became her torturer,” she said with that quiet anger and Rhone felt the cold around them begin to seep into his bones at the look in her eyes. “Multiplying the pain and agony of Amarantha’s favorite knives and whips until their minds broke and the rest of her prisoners were too afraid to rise up against her. When she commanded, I used my gifts to convince prisoners and rebels to reveal anything that Amarantha could use to maintain her power Under the Mountain.”

Rhone faltered, voice weak as he tried to rationalize her actions. “You were a prisoner too. She forced you to do this.”

Thrace tightened his hold on the blade at her neck, releasing rivulets of blood to soak into the collar of her shirt. “Tell him the truth.”

Kali’s eyes blazed like silver flames as she whispered, “I competed for the position.”

Rhone stared at her, speechless for a long moment while his mind connected the dots that he had been too blind to recognize before. Her knowledge of the spellbook and the magic it contained. Her reaction to Rhysand when he visited the Winter court. The way she avoided Kallias at all costs. How she’d sent him away before breaking the minds of each of the fae who’d attacked them in the woods that night.

All to hide this secret from him. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, a terrible sadness in the same eyes that had danced in delight when they been curled around each other in his bed. Rhone’s voice became stronger, more clear as he continued, “Let her go.”

Thrace looked at him with disbelief, “She betrayed you.”

“I love her.”

He knew that now with a certainty that sank into his bones like the essence of his soul. Kali’s face was a mask of shock and a hope that made his heart lurch, made him want to hold her to him until it stayed. She strained against Thrace’s hold, struggling to rise, to get to him.

“Rhone, I’m so sorry,” she gasped as Thrace’s arm circled her neck once again and her voice became panicked. “Rhone, please—“

A wicked grin stretched across his brother’s face and Rhone lunged across the room, his eyes on the knife that gleamed in the moonlight. Thrace pulled back his arm in a blur of cruel movement and stabbed it deep into Kali’s stomach. Twisted the blade even as the dark red stain spread. 

Her cry of pain lingered in the air between them and something snapped inside him, as if his entire life was beginning again in this moment--as he looked into the ravaged eyes of his mate. 

His mate.

Rhone’s heart felt like it was ready to burst as time felt like it slowed to a crawl--his mind screaming that he was too slow, too slow. Kali’s wide eyes were glazed with pain, a pain that ricocheted around the balcony, causing even Thrace to flinch. Flinch and close his hand around Kali’s throat once more to the sound of Rhone’s anguished plea a moment before his brother tossed her over the edge of the balcony like trash.

Rhone exploded.


	39. Blood and Snow

Rhone’s magic was a burst of wild power and violent intentions, blowing into Thrace like a stormwind and slamming him against the balcony railing. Rhone never stopped running, never stopping reaching towards the empty place where his Kali had once stood. Where her blood now stained the ancient stones.

Ignoring his brother, he leapt over the balcony railing and landed hard on the ground below, running towards the fallen form as quickly as he could.

“Kali!” he roared, heart in his throat.

She was so still. Too still. Nothing like the agile little minx who’d tossed him in the sewers or danced ahead of him each time he tried to hunt her down.

Only steps away from her, Rhone felt something hard slam into his back, throwing him off course to land heavily in a snow drift. He rolled, narrowly missing a spear of ice sent hurting toward his chest.

Thrace.

His brother stood a few yards away, magic that once belonged to their father rippling around him like heat from a fire. Fury like he’d never known built in him, choking him until he stood, summoning his own power.

He would not let his mate die alone in the snow.

He would not let his father die unavenged.

Thrace smiled faintly. “It’s a shame we never got along, little brother. We could have helped each other.”

“I want nothing from you.”

“Not even your little thief’s life?” His brother murmured and Rhone wondered how he could have ever missed how dead Thrace’s eyes were or the cruel tilt of his mouth. 

Instead of answering, Rhone smashed a wall of magic and power into his brother that sent him flying into a stone parapet several yards away. His gamble paid off when Thrace hit hard and didn’t rise. He didn’t bother to check to see if Thrace was unconscious or just injured, just turned and sprinted to the crumpled body of his mate.

 

Rhone fell to his knees beside her, hands shaking as they brushed away the snow that had fallen on top of her. “Kali,” he pleaded. “Please, baby, you have to open your eyes now okay? You have to stay awake while I get help.”

Slowly, her lashes fluttered, as if she couldn’t help but answer the panic in his voice. “Rhone…” she whispered, pain and blood loss making her lips as pale as the snow around her. “I’m sorry.”

Kali coughed harshly and he saw flecks of red stain her mouth. It made something in him go cold. “It’s okay.” Rhone whispered soothingly, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “It’s okay--just breathe. You don’t have to be sorry for anything, I’ve got you.”

He ripped off his shirt and pressed it to the wound on her side, cursing when it became saturated with blood almost immediately. Carefully, because he needed to feel her in his arms, he pulled her into his lap using his body to shelter her from the harsh winds and snow. 

Rhone looked around the courtyard for signs of the patrols, shouting, “Guards! Someone help!” 

Helplessly he took hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly and brushing a kiss over her knuckles. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay, Kali, you just have to keep those beautiful eyes open for me, alright?” His voice was shaking, begging for something that she couldn’t give him. 

Her eyes focused up at him for a moment before her hand began to relax in his hold and her lashes slowly drifted downward. 

Rhone wrapped his arms around her rocking her gently, tears falling and freezing as his powers went wild with his panic. “Stay awake, Kali! Do you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please, Kali, don’t do this. Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave.”

Rough hands were suddenly yanking him away, ripping him away from his mate and he roared in fury. Rhone managed to rip one arm free and punched the guard hard enough to send his helmet flying across the courtyard. More pressed in, using their numbers to force him back, drag him away from the pitifully small body lying broken at their feet.

“No! Let go of me!” he snarled, throwing off the hold of one. Before he could take a step, another guard slammed into his midsection and throwing them both into the snow.

His weapons were yanked away and tossed into the drift nearby as he thrashed and struggled in their grip. Rhone hadn’t wanted to use his magic against his father’s men, but now it burst out of him in a wave of ice and ruin. For a moment, he was free and he struggled to his feet to try to grab Kali and run for it.

Then the first cuff clamped shut around his wrist and he felt the wild magic within him disappear.

He roared his fury at the irony, at the injustice that he was being imprisoned by the very cuffs that had once chained him to his thief. Without his magic and the use of his hands, he was left to thrash uselessly against the practiced grip of the guards.

“NO!” He raged, “You have to help her, please! She’s dying!”

Thrace walked over to where they were still struggling to keep him contained and shook his head sadly. “She’s already dead, Rhone.”

Rhone went very still.

No. This had to be another one of his tricks. This had to be another one of Thrace’s twisted games.

She wouldn’t really leave him.

“No,” he whispered, eyes fixed on the motionless body yards away. “I would have felt it…”

“You are charged, Rhone Penhallow,” Thrace intoned while the guards watched in shocked horror, “with the murder of our father, the High Lord of Winter and conspiracy against the people of Winter.” Rhone’s eyes flew back to his brother in furious disgust. “Your partner in crime has already received her punishment, but your position in the court means that you must receive a trial first.”

Spitting at the traitor’s feet, Rhone snarled, “You’re the one who killed him! She tried to stop you and you killed her for it!” 

The guards’ hold on him tightened as he began to fight against them again. They began to drag him back, away from the courtyard and into the cold stone of the palace behind them. Rhone felt a new panic grip him, giving strength to his struggles against the cuffs and Thrace’s guards.

“Take him to the cells,” Thrace ordered, his face a mask of grief. A grief that he did not deserve. 

Rhone cursed, digging his feet into the stone and pushing against their hold, trying to get enough momentum to return to Kali. His muscles bulged and distantly he could hear his captors curse and grunt with the effort of containing him.

“KALI!” He bellowed, slamming an elbow into the ribs of the male gripping him around the neck. “KALI!”

He had to reach her, touch her. Assure himself that this was just a new nightmare sent to torment him for his part in deceiving her with Delorea. 

“Enough of this,” someone spat.

Rhone felt something smash against the back of his head and then knew no more.


	40. The End of an Era

For most of his life, Rhone had never been sure of boundaries--it was why he clung to his soldier’s routines like others clung to their prayers. Without them, lines seemed to blur together into a space of dissonance, into the unknown, making everything he stood for, everything he held onto for clarity and reason dissolve into nothing. 

 

For the first time, Rhone had felt like his boundaries without structure, without order. It was once a tangible thing. As alive as he was now, heart pounding in his chest, his fists trembling as he stalked the hallways of the Winter Court family’s residential wing. 

 

It was a line that his brother had destroyed. 

 

Outside a storm howled and shook the decorative window panes that lined the empty hallway. Stryker kept throwing concerned glances toward those windows and, more than once, Rhone caught him muttering about “reckless females traveling in groups.”

 

Rhone’s gaze strayed only once to his parent’s room and he felt that ever-present grief threaten to consume him once again. For the first time in his life he had a modicum of understanding for the bond his parent’s shared--and the devastation it left in its place.

 

For his mother, for Kali, he would set things right tonight.

 

Thrace’s door might as well have been soft as the falling snow outside as Rhone kicked it in, his wolves in a deadly calm on his heels. It cracked into the wall as it swung on its hinges and Juno let out a low snarl. 

 

He threw down a stiff hand and they backed off, neither crossing the threshold into his brother’s quarters. Stryker hesitated, then took up a position beside them, guarding the door against any unwanted intruders.

 

This was not something he wanted even them to witness.

 

His pulse pounded through him, reminding him again of the beating heart that still stubbornly beat in his chest, despite his wishes that he could offer it to his love, his mate. It would be worth it to see her smile again.

 

But he was too late. He could not save her now.

 

Thrace stumbled out of his bed chambers in shock and horror at the scene Rhone had begun, at the look on his face.

 

He could not save her, but he could avenge her.

 

His older brother took a fearful step back that made Rhone’s blood sing. “Coward,” he spat, hardly recognizing himself. This was not the voice of the male who’d rescued... who’d held... who’d worshipped his woman like she was the sun in his cold, cold life.

 

Kali.

 

He approached his brother slowly, every move deliberate, calculated. His new blade whispered a sharp ringing song as it cut through the air, a prelude to the final act. 

 

Thrace seemed to remember himself--remember that he was the big brother and that he held the stolen power of a High Lord. His chest rose in a sharp breath and he darted across the room where his uniform lay, pulling a blade of his own and thrusting it out at Rhone.

 

Ice crackled and popped around them as frost spread along every surface, bleaching the color from the room. Their breaths became misty white clouds that wreathed their faces and distorted their expressions.

 

“Why do you tremble, brother?” Rhone murmured, his voice dripping with the bleak hatred of a man who had lost his future--lost his eternity.

 

Thrace grit his teeth and lashed out. Rhone parried without any strain, still stepping closer. Thrace jabbed again, sloppy and ill-timed, and Rhone put the full weight of his might into his block, flinging his brother’s weapon across the room. 

 

He closed the last of the distance bringing Thrace’s back to the frost covered wall wall. His hand dropped to a table, desperately seeking out a new tool that could save him from the bloodlust that was building in Rhone like a wild song. Before he could reach anything, Rhone pulled back his arm and pinned Thrace’s hand into the dark wood with his sword. 

 

Thrace’s roar echoed through the room and blood spilled from his impaled palm, staining the pure white of the snow and ice around them. A vein, thick like a throbbing worm, rose on Thrace’s forehead as his crystal blue eyes bore into Rhone’s, “I--”

 

Rhone yanked the blade free from his brother and pressed it firmly against his throat. “Think about your next words carefully,” he growled, clinging to the lethal quiet in his voice like it was all he had left. 

 

This was who he would be now. This was all he was without her.

 

His brother’s jaw trembled. “I didn’t kill her,” he rasped. Thrace shook from a place deep in his ribs and Rhone glowered at his shrinking brother.

 

He turned the blade down and pressed firmly into the tendon on the side of Thrace’s throat. Thrace squirmed, trying to use his size and panic to push Rhone away, but Rhone merely moved an elbow to his elder brother’s shoulder. He held him pinned in place while he drew a thin, precise line down the muscles of Thrace’s chest through the soft fabric of his shirt. He watched the drops of blood seep into the material with a disturbed fascination, nearly tuning out his pathetic, lying brother. 

 

“Delorea took her,” Thrace sobbed desperately, his voice barely above a wheeze. 

 

Rhone did not stop his blade. 

 

He imagined his brother’s heart on a table for the entire court to see how rotten it truly was--the blackness that Rhone had always felt in him finally exposed for his blind followers. 

 

A panting sound somewhere between choking and crying ripped free from Thrace’s throat. “Please, Rhone. She left a message for you. I—I was supposed to give it to you...”

 

That made Rhone pause. 

 

There was a possibility his brother wasn’t just continuing his never ending mind games. That maybe, beyond hope or reason, his Kali was alive. 

 

That she was locked away, hurt and bleeding, in another cell.

 

In one swift motion, Rhone plunged the knife into Thrace’s stomach, gutting his brother in the same place he’d stabbed Kali. They stared into each other’s eyes for a shocked moment and Rhone took pleasure in the pain that made his brother’s eyes glaze over. He didn’t bother with last words, just twisted the knife one last time and let Thrace’s twitching, bleeding body slump to the ground.

 

Rhone waited patiently for the light to dim in those hate filled eyes. For the ragged rise and fall of Thrace’s chest to slowly drag to a halt. 

 

As soon as silence fell through the room, a pulsing chill felt like it was building around Rhone’s body. It grew until the cold was so intense it felt like it burned, branding him as it settled into his skin. Breathing raggedly, Rhone leaned against the wall with one hand, gasping at the mixture of power and pain. The power reached a crescendo, growing until it burst free from his skin in an invisible burst of magic that ripple through the palace walls, dislodging snow and ice in its path.

 

He took a deep breath, feeling a new, unending pool of magic on his tongue. Waiting for direction and purpose.

 

Instead, Rhone ran to the top drawer of his brother’s desk and threw its contents onto the bed, digging for the letter shamelessly. Hope and fear made his gut twist at the thought that his brother might be lying to him once again. That Kali was really dead and Rhone would never even be able to find her body, put her rest.

 

Then his fingers closed over a slim piece of paper, folded neatly with his name on it. Trembling in terror and relief, Rhone carefully unfolded the message and let his eyes scan over the contents.

 

The book for the thief.   
Come alone. 

 

Beneath the short message was a seal that he’d only seen in the history books Kallias avoided as much as possible. A symbol for a fake court created by the nightmares of the fae trapped inside. He ran his fingers over the image inked with a dark red stain that flaked away at his touch.

 

Blood.

 

He gripped the paper with wild determination and a sureness that he’d never held an object more precious. Heart in his throat, Rhone spun on his heel and raced out of his brother’s room without sparing a glance at the corpse on the floor. Freya and Juno were still waiting patiently with Stryker just beyond the threshold and fell into step beside him. 

 

Stryker’s assessing look took in the blood on his clothes and the wild look in Rhone’s eyes as they raced down the hallway. “What happ--”

 

“She’s alive.” Even the words were enough to make his tired feet move faster, melting away the ice that had held him prisoner from the moment he’d watched her fall.

 

“How?” Stryker asked, his eyes flicking towards where Aria must be and Rhone knew he must be communicating the change in plans to her.

 

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Rhone bit out, too consumed with the task set before him. “They want to trade her for the book.”

 

The irony didn’t escape him that he was racing to save the very thief he’d been sent to hunt weeks ago. Now, fear and adrenaline were a clawing, wild presence in his heart. Consuming his mind with what he had to do. 

 

Get the book. 

 

Save Kali. 

 

Maybe then he could beg her to forgive him. Convince her to overlook his stupidity and stay with him. The alternative was unthinkable. 

 

Juno and Freya were pale streaks in the corners of his eyes, driven by the same desperation that sent him hurtling down one of the lesser known hallways of the palace and into the open air of the courtyard. They were joined by Aria and two other fae, one bearing the iconic black wings of the Illyrians.

 

“What’s the plan?” Aria asked as they ran out the side gate and into the empty streets. Her unknown accomplices easily keeping pace with Rhone’s sprint.

 

“They have his mate,” Stryker explained to the others quickly, “They want to exchange her for Amarantha’s spellbook.”

 

“Wait, what?” Aria yelped, but was forced to halt her questions to navigate the frozen streets of Kharos.

 

Rhône was grateful that they didn’t run into any guards in their headlong rush to make it back to his apartment and Kali’s book. A glance down at his blood streaked clothes confirmed that he would not be able to sneak past any guard that got a good look at him, so he didn’t bother and the others followed his lead.

 

Any time he heard a shout of alarm by passersby or an order for him to stop, Rhône would shift directions and cross over to a new street. Just as Kali had the night he’d attempted to capture her. 

 

Going to the apartment was just asking to be caught by the guards who were still loyal to Thrace, but he couldn’t wait to grab the book when things were quieter. Kali was waiting for him. Every second he wasted in Kharos was another moment she spent in the hands of their enemies.

 

Each time they were forced to once again circle back to avoid another guard patrol, he repeated everything he had to do like a mantra to keep the mixture of wild panic and hope under control.

 

Get the book. 

 

Save Kali. 

 

Kill the ones who hurt her.

 

Finally, Rhone made out the familiar outline of his home and poured speed into his legs so that he practically flew up the steps and into his living room. The room was quickly filled with panting fae, spreading out to cover the windows and clear the rooms of any potential threat. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Aria pick up the framed miniature of his family that his mother had given him to celebrate buying the woodshop and his first home away from the palace.

 

Turning away from the memory and the reminder that that family was destroyed beyond recognition now, Rhone walked to the closet just off the kitchen and crouched down over the worn wooden floorboards. Yanking out his knife, he used the edge to slip into the small groove along one side of the board and lever it up to reveal the space beneath. 

 

The spellbook lay nestled in the shirt he’d found tossed on the floor when he’d first returned to his apartment.

 

The shirt that still smelled like Kali. 

 

Carefully he lifted it free from the book and set it aside, before grabbing the book. Rhone stood and walked back into the main room, surprised to find Stryker was missing. He turned to Aria, “Where is Stryker?”

 

“He’s arranging a way out of Kharos,” Aria answered with a placating gesture. “He’ll be back quickly and we can be off. You should rest.”

 

The blonde female flopped on the couch and scowled, “He’s probably checking in with his Lady.”

 

Aria looked away, but not before Rhone saw the flash of pain in her navy colored eyes. What had Stryker been to this female?

 

“We should be moving,” he said impatiently. “Kali is hurt and among enemies.” His voice felt raw with a helpless anguish that came with the idea of what they could be doing to his mate while he was miles away.

 

“Patience, High Lord,” Aria soothed. “We happen to specialize in dramatic rescues and kicking ass.”

 

He didn’t answer, just stalked into his room to prepare himself for battle. Pulling on the dark grey leathers that were worn with age and use, he began the process of strapping on every weapon he could comfortably carry without sacrificing speed.

 

Get the book. 

 

Save Kali. 

 

Kill the ones who hurt her.

 

It would take days to reach her Under the Mountain. Days where she could be in pain, or tortured, or…

 

Or already dead, a nasty voice whispered in his mind.

 

No, Rhone growled to it, I won’t let her die. He pulled on the shirt she’d discarded and let her scent, center him, soothe the broken edges left in her wake.

 

Get the book. 

 

Save Kali. 

 

Kill the ones who hurt her.

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Finally some hope for poor Rhone! Will he make it to Kali in time or was this just another lie so Delorea can get her hands on the book? And what does she want with the spell book and Rhone?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing.


	41. In the Dark

When Kali had first fallen through the icy air, she'd foolishly wished that she'd have the chance to explain herself to Rhone. To somehow survive the fall and the knife blade through her ribs and be able to fix things.

Instead, she'd awakened shackled to a stone slab as a dead-eyed healer watching her.

She didn't understand why until the familiar red haired female had leaned into view and stroked a gentle finger over her arm, trailing white-hot agony in its wake. "Hello again, Kali," Delorea purred.

Kali snarled, fighting against the shackles and sensations that were overwhelming her to the point of nausea.

"I dreamed of this moment for so long," Delorea's voice was drunk on the pain she kept pouring into the other female until her back arched helplessly against the table and black spots danced in her vision. Only after her vision began to blur completely did the torture ease enough that Kali could collapse, limbs shaking and chest heaving, against the cool stone.

"I could never understand what Amarantha ever saw in you."

Kali focused on calming her breath as her grey eyes narrowed in cool rage at her old enemy. "Release me from these chains and I'll show you."

Delorea tutted and said, "And give you the opportunity to turn my guards into your willing servings? I think not. And besides," she continued with a smile that made Kali sick to her stomach, "We have so much to catch up on. I mean, we were practically siblings for a time."

"Don't wax poetic at me," Kali snarled, "You've tried to kill me a hundred times over."

"True,-" Delorea walked to the edge of the room to pick up a razor from the table, "-if it weren't for my aunt, I would have succeeded."

"So why not just kill me and get your revenge."

"Trust me, pet," Delorea raked her fingers down her cheek until blood welled, making Kali hiss out a breath, "that will happen soon enough. For now, you're more valuable as bait."

The implication of why Delorea had brought her here conjured up images of the face she'd even trying to hide from. As if she could keep safe those precious memories of light and laughter against the darkness that threatened to drown her.

Her voice was cold, lifeless as her gaze stared up at the stone ceiling above her, "He won't come."

"We both know that isn't true."

But Delorea hadn't seen the disgust in Rhône's eyes as Thrace had laid all her sins bear. Hadn't felt the twisting knife of shock and hurt bleed through her shields and remain lodged in her soul.

She knew this was one pit she would never escape from.

Her eyes were hard as she looked at the tray of torture implements arranged carefully within her view. "So you plan to torture me until then? See if you can break me?"

"Oh no, I don't want you to die-that would end things too quickly." Delorea's expression was all cruel excitement at the thought and Kali felt her stomach sink. "How long," her childhood tormentor drawled, "do you think it would take for you to break if I threw you back into that pit?"

No, Kali thought with a fresh wave of dread. No. She couldn't go back there. She wouldn't survive it.

Delorea was still talking, still toying with the blades spread out for her use. "-I've always imagined what it was like for you, all alone down there after Amarantha realized that you were a lying piece of trash. It must feel a little like death-cold, alone, with no one to care whether you lived or died. Time is meaningless. You're just trapped in your head with no one to save you, no one to guide you out of the hellhole you end up in. An eternity of conscious nothingness."

Kali stared up at the ceiling, trying to beat back the panic that threatened to consume her, drown her in the helpless twist of the knife Delorea held over her.

"Don't worry though," she murmured, "I won't leave you alone for long. When Rhone comes to deliver the spellbook, I'll tell my men to toss his gutted corpse down there to keep you company."

Screaming in rage, Kali lunged for her until the chains drew her up short. Thrashing against the metal, she roared, "Don't you touch him! Don't you lay one finger on him you evil bitch!"

Delorea laughed and gestured to the guards streaming into the chamber at the noise. "Take her to the pit," she ordered, then paused, "Feel free to have some fun with her first, just make sure the cuffs stay on."

Rough hands pulled her free from the table despite her struggles. Kali twisted wildly in their grip, biting deep into an exposed arm and was rewarded by a mouthful of blood and a blow to the back of her head that left her seeing stars for several minutes.

By the time she could see straight again, the guards had dragged her into Amarantha's throne room and began tying her to the same wall that had haunted her nightmares for years. The sound of the whip slashing through the air was enough to drive her nearly insane. She'd struggled, screamed, and eventually cried for the mate that would never find her.

In the end, they'd pulled her bleeding, broken body back to the healers to ensure she'd survive her new home in the pit. It wasn't the tomb beneath Amarantha's court that had been Kali's home for years after her fall from grace, but a new stone pit carefully dug out of the wreckage of Amarantha's throne room where the Middenguard Worm had once feasted. The walls stank of decay and it was freezing cold below the surface of the earth and the hearths that wreathed the throne room above her.

All that light and heat tantalizingly close, but always outside of her reach.

Instead she sat sealed within the tomb Delorea had created for her, begging for death on her stronger days and begging for Rhone on her weaker nights. Each day the torture would begin again-stopping only when death loomed. Then the healers would stitch her up and let her attempt to sleep in the pitch black nightmare at the base of Delorea's hewn throne.

The darkness consumed her. It overwhelmed her, flooding her senses to the tune of the painful throbbing of the injuries that slowly weakened her with each beat of her tired heart. Panic, pure and unadulterated, whispered that she would never see the light she craved so much.

She would never see Rhone again.

No one will ever notice you're gone, Amarantha purred in her ear. No one would care.

Rhone would, Kali told herself, he would care that she died alone in the dark. But Rhone believed that she was dead so even that wasn't a comfort.

Maybe that was best, the darkness whispered and she found herself falling deeper into the spiral of clawing pain and misery. It welcomed her like an old friend, drawing her deeper into the comforting numbness.

Some nights, some terrible nights, she dreamed of him. Dreamed of the horror and shock in his eyes as Thrace laid every one of her sins at his feet and exposed her for the monster she truly was. Or the way he would look standing at Delorea's side for the rest of eternity.

Sometimes she dreamed of the sound of his steady breathing beside her or the look in his eyes that he got when she was beginning to drive him crazy. That she was still asleep next to him in his apartment and could feel his arms around her so long as her eyes remained closed. She dreamed of all the moments they would never have.

Those were the hardest to wake up from.

On those days, waking up in the darkness once again broke what was left of her into smaller and smaller fragments. Ripped away the tiny pieces of sanity and hope that seemed to force her heart to keep beating, her chest to rise and fall one more time. One more time.

She cursed that piece of her that still believed that her story wouldn't end in this pit created for her. That still believed that somehow Rhone would look past every one of her lies and tricks to save her. She'd given up on hoping that he would believe she was his mate or that they could grow old together. Now she would be glad for just one moment with him again or to quietly slip into one of those dreams of light and peace.

If only Kali could live in the fantasy she created where he could love her.

Maybe it had all been nothing more than a dream created by her broken mind. Maybe she had never truly escaped the pit beneath the mountain where Amarantha had abandoned her. She had worked so hard to remember the things she'd done to survive down there. Imagining a mate that loved her was, in a way, a kinder reality than the knowledge that she'd lied to her mate and lost him.

She lay in a crumpled heap, feeling for the bond that had been stretched thin in her last days at the Winter Court. When she'd found out that Rhone had been meeting with Delorea all along and began to question if he was truly the male she'd believed him to be. It flickered and wavered like a flame losing its fuel.

Her body was beginning to wear down after days of abuse and barely any food or water. The skin on her face was bruised and bloodied so badly that she doubted even Rhone would be able to recognize her. All of her joints ached with a sickness that was beginning to seep from the infected wound left by Thrace's knife. Death lingered nearby, always just out of reach but coming closer with each hour spent in this tomb bereft of light or hope. She was dying, she knew, and Kali couldn't find the strength to wish it wasn't so.

"Just let it end," she whispered through cracked lips, unsure of who she was praying to, "Just make it stop."

But it didn't.  
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Poor Kali, trapped in the nightmare she's been running from for so long. :(

Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing! Your support means the world!


	42. Outside the Gates

A few minutes later, a breathless Stryker burst through the door, ignoring the weapons that were immediately raised in his direction. Another male walked in behind him, throwing back the hood of his cloak to reveal a handsome male with dark brown hair that gleamed red in the firelight.

"He says he's with you," Stryker explained, looking annoyed.

"Kai," Aria said to the other male who smiled and crossed the eroom to wrap his arms around her.

"I saw the storm and thought something had happened to you," Kai murmured and brushed a kiss across her brow.

Stryker growled and Rhone looked over in surprise over to see his friend running his fingers over the hilt of the blade at his hip. Aria barely glanced at him, just smiled at Kai and asked, "Did you secure our exit?"

"Of course."

"Then let's go," Rhone cut in and walked out the door. After a few moments, the others followed him down the steps and back out into the cold. Several of the shaggy horses popular in the Winter Court stamped impatiently outside, their reins held by a surly looking older female fae.

Stryker leapt onto a mottled grey stallion beside Rhone's black, barely waiting for the others to mount before taking off down the nearly empty streets just as the weak light of dawn began to peak past the mountain ridges to the north. The thunder of their horses' hooves broke the quiet of the early morning and matching the pounding of his heart. He was going to find his mate, save her.

Then he was never letting her go.

They rode hard for the first day, making good time across the frozen lake that surrounded Kharos and ice flats that bordered it, only stopping to occasionally water the horses. Juno and Freya ranged around their group, scenting for threats. He knew that it would take days to reach the nearest entrance to Amarantha's former court, but the thought of Kali being trapped there that long at the mercy of Delorea made it difficult to breathe.

Rhone clutched at the fragile bond linking him to his mate to keep the wild maelstrom of protective fury at bay. The pale sunlight that connected him to Kali felt like it was growing dimmer with each passing moment and it made something in him burn and twist like a lit coal sitting deep in his belly. He wanted to move faster, to winnow across the distance and tear apart Delorea and her mockery of a court.

So when Aria called for them to halt for the night, it was a struggle not to ignite. He whirled his horse to face her, "We can't stop yet."

"The horses are spent and so are we, prince," she said soothingly. "If we don't get some sleep, we won't be able to reach Under the Mountain." Briskly the group began to dismount and make camp. Kai and the Illyrian, Ifrit, wandering into the woods to gather some wood for the fire while Talia dug through her packs for food.

"No. We keep going. We can rest when she's safe."

"Rhone-," Stryker began, but Rhone snarled at him, "You know what they will do to her. I can't let her stay there any longer."

"Being an idiot won't save her. You're barely functioning as it is," Aria snapped and he turned on her. Her expression softened slightly at his wild eyes and she nudged Talia so the healer handed over the canteen she was holding. "At least drink and eat something-we can try to make it a few more miles before we rest again. We'll need the horses on the return journey and we can't risk one of them going lame."

Begrudgingly, Rhone took the canteen and gulped down the cool liquid inside. He handed it back to Talia with a muttered thanks and stripped the bit out of his horse's mouth so it could graze on the stubby pine straw littering the ground. Juno and Freya flopped onto the ground nearby, long pink tongues lolling from their mouths as they panted. The evergreen forest around them reminded him too much of the nightmare left for Kali days ago and it made him edgy.

He knew he was being unreasonable, that it would take time to get to Kali, but he couldn't seem able to control the anxious energy that made his hands shake and his mood turn sour.

Stryker walked beside him, making a show of rubbing his horse down when all he was doing was keeping an eye on Rhone. His head was throbbing and it felt like it had been weeks since that morning with Kali instead of days. Rhone sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and felt a wave of exhaustion pull at him. "Thank you," he finally said and the spymaster turned to face him. "For everything."

"I know what it's like to lose a mate," Stryker murmured and Rhone watched his eyes flick to where Aria was unpacking the dry rations they'd brought.

Rhone eyed the two of them for a long moment. "It looks like she didn't stay lost."

Stryker sighed, but didn't respond and Rhone felt a fresh wave of exhaustion wash over him, forcing him to lock his knees to keep from falling over.

"Why don't you sit down for a while?"

Something in his friend's voice made suspicion bloom in his gut and Rhone turned to face him. The movement made the world spin and tilt at a dizzying angle and he would have fallen if Stryker and Aria hadn't grabbed his arms.

"What did Talia give him?" Stryker grunted as the levered his body onto one of the sleeping rolls by the fire.

"Just something to let him sleep for a few hours."

Rhone tried to snarl or curse, but the world around him slowly faded into a comforting darkness of sleep.

He dreamed she was with him, curled against his side as she had the morning before everything went to hell. He could feel the warmth of her bare skin against his and the comforting weight of her head against his chest. Her breath was warm against the skin of his chest and he tried to press her closer, hold on to her tighter, knowing that this peace wouldn't last. Rhone kept his eyes closed, not ready to face the reality where Kali was gone, hurt or tortured or worse and it was his fault.

Kali stirred, voice rough with sleep. "What's wrong, Rhone?"

He swallowed hard, surprised at how much he'd missed that sound in only a few days. "You're gone," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Rhone," she sobbed and suddenly they were back on that balcony, Thrace's knife biting into her flesh. "It hurts too much."

"No!" He shouted, but he knew it was too late. She plummeted to the sound of his brother's laughter and his feeble attempts to save her.

And this time, she didn't get back up.

Someone shook his shoulder gently and he opened his eyes to the leafy boughs of a green forest. The colors felt bright and foreign compared to the white and silver colorscape of his home. This was the kind of place Kali would like.

The thought wiped away all the drowsiness he'd felt and Rhone sat up straight, looking around to get his bearings. Stryker crouched next to him looking wary, "You alright?"

"You drugged me," Rhone snapped and got to his feet. Freya licked his hand in greeting and her sister sniffed over his clothes for any sign of food. "How do you think I am?" His eyes searched for the healer who must have slipped something into the canteen she'd offered him last night.

Stryker stepped in front of him. "Don't blame Talia-it was my idea." Rhone eyes flicked back to him and he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his dark hair, "You were about collapse and I didn't want to risk that happening in the middle of the battle for your mate. Even if you survived, you wouldn't have forgiven yourself."

Rhone moved toward the horses, pulled along by the now familiar frantic energy that had him reaching within him to feel for the tiny, shimmering bond in his soul. It felt as delicate as spider silk, glimmering faintly at the edge of his vision. Nothing like the stubborn strength of his mate.

"I'll kick your ass when this is finished," he finally grunted.

Aria and the rest of her strange crew were busy packing away their simple camp and readying their horses for travel. They moved with efficiency and a familiarity that told him they'd been working together for many years. When Stryker moved to help Aria saddle her horse, she brushed him away with an abrupt movement and Rhone watched his friend stiffen slightly before bowing and stalking away. Kai hovered nearby and Rhone wondered at the tension between the two males.

"Why is this the first time I've seen your mate?" he asked curiously as Stryker pulled himself onto his horse. "She doesn't appear to be happy with you at the moment."

Stryker busied himself with arranging the reins of his horse for a long moment. "She has good reason to be mad," he finally muttered.

"So what did you do?"

His friend's eyes moved over to where the rest of the group were mounting their horses and beginning to head away from camp. Stryker's face turned grim and impossibly sad. "I left her."

Before Rhone could answer, Aria spurred her horse into a gallup and Rhone's mind was once again consumed with thoughts of what lay ahead of them.

Delorea's note hadn't given him the details he desperately needed. Was Kali truly alive? Had they treated her injuries from Thrace?

The reminder of the red haired female he'd allowed to fool him into thinking she was his mate made him grit his teeth. He should have killed her the day she'd tormented Kali and convinced her that she was nothing more than a fling. He should have chased after her and begged her to stay, to let him explain the truth. He should have told her that he loved her, that he would choose her over Delorea always. Without hesitation.

Now she was lost, hurt, and in the same dungeons she'd sacrificed everything to escape.

Rhone tightened his hold on the reins and felt his horse surge forward in response, pulling ahead of the others. He heard Stryker call for more speed, but he ignored them. He'd already waited too long to reach Kali and end this nightmare.

Despite his wishes, it still took hours before the mountains in the distance finally came closer. The ground became rocky beneath their horses' hooves and they were forced to sacrifice speed in favor of surety to keep from stumbling. All chatter ceased as they focused on picking their way through the foothills.

Occasionally Juno or Freya would stalk into sight, herding them away from any patrols that marked the beginning of the area Delorea and Hybern had reclaimed. He was grateful that his girls were just as eager to reunite with the missing member of their pack. The closer they got to Amarantha's former court, the more often they were forced to double back and circle around to avoid detection.

Thrace must have ensured Delorea was able to move her soldiers into the region without raising any warnings. Looking back, his brother's influence was easy to trace in the way Rhone's tribe had been targeted and hunted, how often the Winter Court guards' were unable or unwilling to hunt down those responsible. After all, Thrace was responsible for all the training and assignments of the soldiers of Winter. It wouldn't be difficult to ensure incompetent or loyal guards were stationed around Kharos.

Aria whistled low and Rhone pulled his horse to a stop in a small, nondescript clearing with the rest of their tiny force. "This is it," she explained, throwing her leg over the back of her horse and sliding out of the saddle.

"Are you sure?" Stryker asked, "There are no markers to indicate this is an entrance."

She shot him a withering look. "Of course I'm sure. We've used this exit before." He winced and nodded. "Delorea will kill her if she sees you're with us so we can't go in the front entrance," Aria said quickly. "We will guard this entrance and make sure you have a clear exit for you to take Kali too. Talia will be waiting to make sure she's stable."

"It's too risky to send him in alone-that's what she wants," Stryker protested.

"I don't care," Rhone growled. "If Delorea realizes I'm not alone, she'll kill Kali."

"She could kill you too, Rhone."

"If Kali is dead, I will bring the mountain down on her," Rhone continued as if Stryker hadn't spoken. "Otherwise, I'll just make the exchange and get out of there."

"If at all possible, we need to keep that book away from her. Who knows what kind of dark magic it contains," the spymaster said grimly. "All of this has just been a plot to get her hands on it…"

"Be ready to run when you see us," Rhone said to Aria and nodded towards Talia, "She was injured before she was taken and I doubt they've…" His throat closed at the thought so he just turned his horse to the east.

"Good luck," Stryker called after him. "And be safe! Your mother will kill me if I let you get hurt."

Rhone turned his attention to the path in front of him, feeling the familiar ice spreading through his veins. The trees and brush around him became brittle with a layer of frost, marking the passage of the new High Lord of Winter. He smiled grimly at the thought.

Delorea had no idea what kind of storm she was about to unleash.  
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Sorry for the long wait everyone! I tried to finish and release a chapter for each story at the same time. Things are starting to heat up (or freeze over?) for Delorea and I can't wait to see what you think of what I have planned in the new few chapters. Hopefully he'll make it to Kali in time to save her...

If you haven't already, you should check out the Stryker and Aria spin-off that I just started and let me know what you think!

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing!


	43. Blood and Bone

Rhone stalked down the halls of his parent's nightmares, ignoring the dead-eyed soldiers that flanked him. They'd appeared around him seconds after the massive carved rock entrance came into view. At one time, the entrance must have been gilt with gold and precious stones to adown the crown carefully carved into the marble and jet veins that ran through the mountain. Now it was a skeleton of the infernal court that had once been housed here.

His eyes remained fixed to the dark tunnel ahead of him while the guards stripped him of his weapons, leaving the satchel with the book untouched.

Being unarmed didn't bother him-he was a High Lord now.

The stone hallways echoed dully with their footsteps and an unfamiliar sound that repeated in a consistent pattern. He strained his ears with a frown, trying to place what he could only distantly make out. At first he thought it was music of some kind, but as they turned another dimly lit corner Rhone felt his heart stutter in his chest and understanding wash over him like ice water.

A whip.

He ran forward, ignoring the shouts of warning behind him, towards the sound of a lash rising and falling in a staccato rhythm. As he got closer, he could hear the wet thud of the leather striking against living flesh and the soft sob of pain. He was racing now, chest heaving for air as he threw open the set of ornate golden doors, tarnished with age, and saw her.

"Kali," he half shouted, half gasped at the...body that dangled from rusted chains against one of the walls at the back of the throne room. Blood dripped in dark rivers down her bare back to pool on the ground, marring the gleaming white marble floor grotesquely.

Rhone started toward her, frost rippling over the ground around him and dropping the temperature of the room to arctic temperatures. A few of the guards started towards him, but fell to their knees, clutching at the jagged shards of ice impaling their chests. Another group raced forward and he raised his hand, summoning his father's magic when-

"Stop," A sharp voice snapped and Rhone turned his attention toward the female seated at the hewn throne next to where Kali dangled, motionless. Delorea. "Don't take another step or I'll kill her."

At her gesture, several archers along the walls raised their notched bows at the helplessly broken body of his mate, waiting for the order to shoot with rapt adoration.

Fury was a live thing inside him as he looked at the female who'd hurt his mate. Tortured his Kali. The walls gave a warning groan at the ice that expanded against them, filling in the cracks in the stone with enough pressure that he could feel the foundations begin to crack.

Gone was the sweet, simpering female who'd trailed along behind him, trying to seduce him with gentle smiles and batted lashed. In her place was a wicked, cruel figurehead on a borrowed throne. Delorea wore a golden ball gown that gleamed dully in the torchlight like burnished metal, inset with raw diamonds and glittering jade. It perfectly matched the crown that was woven into her auburn hair that curled in bright coils over her bare shoulders and showed off her delicate neck.

"My, my, Rhone. It looks like you've been promoted," Delorea simpered. The guards fell into position around him with their weapons drawn. "I guess that means Thrace is no longer with us? Pity-he was so devoted."

"Touch her again and I'll rip your spine from your lifeless body," Rhone snarled, feeling his control over his emotions beginning to snap.

"Don't be so dramatic, Rhone," Delorea purred. "You'll get your little mate in due time." She studied him for a long moment before frowning prettily. "I have to admit-you aren't the horse I would have bet on a few weeks ago, but you seem to have won the race after all."

"What are you talking about?" he growled. It was a struggle to drag his eyes away from the sight of Kali, here-alive-and trapped in the nightmares that had tortured her for so long.

"Thrace was so eager to get his hands on the spellbook so he could help his Court. He would have done anything I asked really," Her smile was cruel and Rhone felt his breath still in his chest. "But even he balked when it came time to start taking out unnecessary family members."

Rhone saw red and took a step towards her. "You bitch."

A flicker of movement was all that signalled the danger before the whip cracked through the air. "Every step you take towards me is another strike against her-so I suggest you stand still."

He forced himself to stop, chest heaving and eyes furious.

"Where was I? Ah yes, your sweet brother. Thrace must have figured out what I planned because he started to fight against my hold which was...problematic. He became too much of a drain on my power, especially when I was busy seducing you."

Understanding dawned. "That's why you started draining more fae in Kharos." A wave of fresh grief washed over him at the realization that Thrace hadn't chosen to betray them. That he'd tried to fight her hold.

"With Thrace in my pocket, there was no need to worry about being caught by the guards so long as I took people no one cared about."

"But Kali found them. She knew it was you," Rhone replied stoutly, proud that his mate had never fallen for Delorea's plots.

Delorea's expression turned flinty. "So sorry-I meant no one important could catch me. It's such a shame that you don't have better taste in women," she smirked, "I hear you're at least good for a decent lay if I ever decided to stoop that low."

Rhone gave her a feline grin. "Is that why you kept trying to convince me I was your mate in broom closets and dark corridors?" he purred.

She hissed out an annoyed breath before giving him a smug smile. "Tell me, did your brother beg when you came to kill him? I was so unhappy to miss you slaughtering each other like beasts."

"Let her go and I'll give you the book," he bit out.

"I don't think so," Delorea gestured and the guard with the whip took his position a few feet away from Kali.

"Wait!" Rhone snapped, hands outstretched toward them like he could stop the dark slash before it ripped into Kali's back, tearing the flesh. He roared, moving forward, but Delorea held up a hand.

"Much better," she murmured, eyes glinting in mocking delight. "I have to say, I'm hurt that you're so worked up about this filthy little thief after all the time we spent together. I really thought we had something."

"I never wanted you," he snarled.

"Oh, we both know that's not true." Delorea's eyes gleamed as she dragged her hand over the curves of her breasts peeking out of the low cut dress she wore. "It's one of my specialties after all-making males want me, that is. You couldn't even control your lust after you met your mate."

"None of it was real. Just more of your magic forcing me to feel a lie."

"Now you're just being hurtful," she pouted, "You were quite happy to walk around the palace with the sweet Lady of Hybern until you met this trash." Her beautiful eyes narrowed on Kali and Rhone fought the urge to place himself between them. Then she smiled, the violent rage he'd witnessed disappearing behind practiced courtly manners, "Of course, even my magic didn't force you to lie to poor little Kali about all the times we met."

Kali jerked weakly in her chains and Delorea's smile turned vicious, "I wonder if she'll ever be able to trust you again without wondering just how far that attraction went between us. After all, you were never known for your celibacy."

"Give her back to me," Rhone snarled, eyes focused on his mate with a silent plea. Just hold on a little longer.

"Bring me the book."

He hesitated before finally grabbing the book from the leather pouch at his side and extending it towards Delorea's guards. "Take it-just give her back to me."

Delorea's eyes lit with fanatical excitement at the sight of Amarantha's precious spell book. She nodded impatiently and the room fell silent while one of her guards brought it up to her.

"Don't." The whisper was so soft that he almost didn't hear it in the cavernous room and his head snapped towards his mate.

"Too late, Kali dear," Delorea crowed and waved toward the guards near Kali.

Rhone started toward her in relief, but froze when the whip sliced through the air once again, bowing Kali's back in silent agony. "NO!" he roared, fighting against the hold of the soldiers converging on him. "We had a deal, Delorea-let her go!"

Delorea flipped a page in the book idly, ignoring the crack of the whip. "I told you I'd give her to you, I never said in what condition."

His magic pulsed in a vicious wave, shaking loose rock from the ceiling and bringing in more troops from the outer hallways. The ones closest to him slowly went still, their skin going grey while their eyes frosted over. Frozen solid.

Rhone whirled, sending bolts of ice out like spears and watched a row of fae fall to the floor, twitching in their death throes. Still the whip rose and fell, splattering blood against the clear white of his power. The sight of it made something in him shatter irrevocably. There was so much blood.

Delorea looked up with an annoyed huff, "If you want her so badly, you're going to have to offer more than the book."

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Why do you think I killed so many of your tribesmen? Or bothered flirting with you, for that matter?" she asked instead, looking smug that they hadn't figured it out. "I've been searching for an amplifier. Someone who can boost my powers enough that I can do magic that's impossible without the Cauldron's assistance."

Horror twisted through him at the implications of what she was saying. What kind of nightmares were hidden in Amarantha's spellbook? One look at Kali's mutilated back told him it was bad enough that his mate was willing to die to keep Delorea from attaining it.

But he couldn't let her die like this. Not in this place of pain and suffering. Not believing that what they'd shared was a lie.

His hesitation must have shown because Delorea made a tutting noise, "It looks like sweet Kali has gone unconscious again...such a rude little creature. She's been doing that more and more lately. We'll just wake her up again."

Magic bit through the air and Kali screamed, a broken sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Her back bowed in a sickening arch and she thrashed against the chains, trying to escape from the pain he could see reflected in Delorea's eyes.

"STOP!" He roared, wanting to beg, to plea-anything to stop this torture. Kali kept screaming, her mouth open in raw agony even after her voice cracked and broke. Panic flooded him and he dropped to his knees in front of Delorea's throne. "Please. I-I'll do it."

"What was that?"

"I said I'll do it-if you give me Kali now, without hurting her anymore and let us leave here."

Delorea leaned forward with an excited grin and called out to the guards, "Cut her down then."

They quickly released the chains from the hooks set high in the wall and Kali fell to the floor in a boneless heap, unable to stand on her own. This time when Rhone moved forward, no one stopped him and he was across the room in less than a heartbeat. His hands shook with the need to touch her, feel her breathing against him, but her body was a maze of bleeding flesh and open wounds.

"I'm here. It's alright, I'm here now," he whispered, helping to ease her into a more comfortable position. "Gods, baby. What did they do to you?"

There was so much blood. It seeped into his pants and painted her skin to the point where he wondered if each ragged breath would be her last.

"Rhone," Kali panted desperately, her fingers clutching weakly at him. "Please-run. You can't-"

"I'm waiting!" Delorea called out impatiently and Rhone forced himself to stand, hands clenched into fists to fight the urge to rip apart everyone here.

"I'll be right back," he murmured instead, brushing a kiss across one bruised cheek.

"No! Rhone-"

Rhone stood, placing himself directly in front of Kali's battered body in an attempt to shelter her from what was about to happen. With a sharp gesture, chunks of ice shot like arrows from the ceiling, piercing the guards who had whipped his mate. They screamed in agony, clutching at holes in their arms, legs, and gut. He was careful to avoid any major organs-he wanted them to suffer as long as possible before they finally died.

"I'm ready," Rhone snarled, walking toward the female who'd destroyed everything he'd cared about. Who would pay for her sins in blood and bone as soon as Kali was safe.

Delorea smiled.  
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Well, Rhone and Kali are finally back together...if they can make it out of Amarantha's Court alive. And poor Thrace! Painted as a villain when he was really just another victim. Alas.

So what do you think Delorea plans to do with Rhone and his powers now that she has the book? Leave your theories in the comments!

Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!


	44. Red Queen Rising

Rhone forced himself to take another step toward Delorea, leaving his mate where she lay. He tried not to think of the way she kept reaching for him even after he stepped away. As soon as he was done with Delorea he could take Kali out of this hell hole, he promised himself.

She would be okay. He would make sure she survived this.

Delorea's eyes gleamed with excitement in the torchlight and she ran her fingers over the book like it was a lover. "Bring her to me," she ordered one of the servants.

At first Rhone thought she was talking about Kali, but before he could do more than tense, the servant ducked into one of the side passages. Satisfied Kali was safe for now, he took the opportunity to find the doorway with a pale stone set above it that glittered like captured fire above it. Just as Aria described. In a stroke of luck, the passageway was only a few yards away from where Kali was.

The sound of footsteps coming closer warned him of the servants return and he looked up to see the man carrying a large glass jar with something...dark red inside of it. Rhone felt his stomach twist in revulsion when the light of the torches briefly illuminated the contents.

Bones and chunks of flesh floated in a macabre collection.

Runes glinted with unholy power from where they had been inscribed on the glass and he fought the urge to flinch when that magic stepped closer. It felt like skeletal fingers brushed along his skin while the scent of decay and rot grew until it was hard to breathe.

What in the Mother's name was going on?

"Impressive, isn't it?" Delorea crooned, reaching out and taking the jar from her servant to run a loving hand over the glass, stirring the contents slightly with the gesture. "Or it will be-once we're done here."

"Just get it over with," Rhone growled.

She carefully set the jar down at the center of the marble floor, standing protectively nearby. "Speaking of, I don't suppose I need to remind you what will happen if you attempt to halt my spell or double cross me?" The archers along the sides of the hall returned to their ready positions, wholly focused on ending Kali's life at her signal. "You may be a High Lord now, but you won't be able to save her if you break our bargain."

"I said I'd do it."

Delorea stared at him for a long moment before nodding and setting the book on the table beside her, flipping through the spells carefully. She gestured for him to come closer. Gritting his teeth, Rhone stepped closer to her, trying not to think about what horrors were hidden in that jar or what she could possibly use them for. He glanced over at Kali, but she was lying still enough that only the slight rise and fall of her chest hinted at life.

Forgive me, Kali.

Delorea began to read from the book, strange, guttural words that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and magic make the air heavy and tinged with electricity. The runes on the glass jar glowed white and he watched the light from them trickle down into the stones at their feet, painting intricate designs in the marble. The light from them cast the room in odd shadows and made the torches gutter in their scones.

Kali made a moaning sound, but when he turned back towards her Delorea's fingers clamped around his arm like claws.

It took everything in him not to yank himself free-bargain be damned. His thoughts must have shown on his face because he heard the groan of wood as the archers pulled their bowstrings taut in preparation. Rhone gritted his teeth and remained where he was, tucking his murderous rage away until he could rip the flesh from Delorea's bones without endangering his mate.

Satisfied, Delorea began to chant again until the magic made the air thick with a crackling energy. "Mortuus voco. Et voco hic."

The magic surged forward, pouring into the jar at the center of their circle and Rhone felt Delorea stagger as the power began to drain from her. Her voice faltered and she tightened her grip on his arm.

Guessing that was his cue, Rhone reached for the wall of ice he'd kept in place after years of careful practice in the palace gardens. It made him think of his mother and all at once those shields felt brittle, fractured in a way he wasn't sure he could heal. Would Vivianne even be able to survive the loss of her mate? Or had he abandoned Phinn to face the wreckage left behind in this war?

Pushing aside the guilt and pain left in the wake of that train of thought, Rhone released the molten core of his power, letting it bloom from him like a flower in the sun. It surged forward greedily, feeding the magic in the room until it reached a fever pitch.

Silently he prayed to the Mother that he hadn't damned them all.

Delorea threw back her head, an exultant expression on her face as her voice gained strength. Each syllable dropping like a stone into the lake of power they were drowning in. "Et tu iubes! Hac tum praetoria nave ad vitam redire!"

His ears popped as that awful pressure built to a crescendo until it felt like the walls themselves were vibrating under the strain. The drain on his power made his knees threaten to buckle, but Rhone just gritted his teeth, riding out the weakness. He would not leave Kali alone again. He would not give his mate to these monsters.

Red hair whipped in an invisible wind, pulling free from the glittering crown on Delorea's head as she raised her hands and shouted, "Evigilare faciatis!"

The magic surged forward, sucked into a seemingly endless vacuum then...nothing. Rhone blinked in surprise, looking around as though the result of all Delorea's planning was more subtle than he expected.

Delorea fell to her knees, her face a mask of confusion and disappointment. "I-I don't understand…" she whispered dully.

Slowly, silently, Rhone slipped free from her grasp, taking another step towards Kali. He didn't trust the red-headed bitch not to go back on her word now that her spell had failed.

"Why didn't it work?" she moaned, dragging the spellbook to her and looking over the open page. "I did everything. Everything." Delorea crawled forward, almost bowing in front of the glass jar as though she had overlooked something there.

Rhone was only a few feet away from his mate when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. Dread and horror curled through him and he slowly turned back toward the horrific jar Delorea had held with such reverence.

A curling smoke, so pale he had to strain his eyes to see it, slowly rose up from the jar. It's form remained hazy, but Delorea looked at it with a manic hope in her eyes. "I did it," she half sobbed, half crowed. "I told you I would."

She paused as though listening to a response that even Rhone's heightened senses couldn't make out. The smoke drifted closer to her, brushing over her skin in a light caress that made Delorea close her eyes in ecstasy.

"I was the only one-the only one who truly loved you! I am your most loyal servant, even after you sent me away. I never betrayed you, never gave up searching for a way to save you. I knew you would realize my value one day" Delorea declared with fanatical excitement. "I knew you would not allow yourself to pass into the other world until your revenge was complete."

A sick sense of understanding began to take root in his mind and Rhone moved more quickly to his mate, moving silently as possible.

The smoke twisted and roiled like a snake in the air and this time he thought he caught a female whisper echoing through it. The vaporous column looked like it was becoming denser though it remained tied to the jar on the floor.

Delorea appeared to notice the same thing. "I don't understand why the spell didn't work...You should be returned to your body."

"...too much damage…" This time he was sure he heard a husky female voice murmur even as grief washed over Delorea's face.

"Forgive me, my queen," she begged and bowed her head, tears streaming down her face. The vapor moved closer and Rhone felt a thread of alarm at the way tendrils of it seemed to sink into Delorea's skin without her noticing. Quickly, he closed the distance between him and his mate, trying to find a way to lift her without causing more damage.

"I must ask for one more act of service, my sweet Delorea," the unfamiliar voice crooned.

Delorea nodded vigorously, a new hope in her eyes that flickered with a slowly growing look of alarm. Her eyes widened at the sight of the nearly opaque form in front of her, surrounding her in carefully looping coils until Rhone had to strain his eyes to make out her shape.

"Time to go," he muttered to Kali and carefully scooped her up into his arms. Instantly his shirt was soaked through with dark liquid and she made a soft sound of pain that made his heart twist. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm getting you out of here, I promise."

Glancing at the archers, standing blank eyed and silent at the edges of the throne room, Rhone silently began to walk toward the hallway he'd marked earlier. When they didn't move to stop him, he moved faster, hoping to put distance between his mate and the nightmare behind him.

That's when Delorea began to scream.

The sound echoed off the stone walls in rising peals of agony. It built into a wild frenzy of pain and agony that seemed grotesque against the audience of silent, expressionless soldiers who watched without blinking. Delorea continued to scream, barely drawing breath in between wretched sounds of suffering.

Only when they passed through the doorway, did Rhone dare to look back and felt the blood drain from his face.

The smoke was forcing its way into Delorea as she seized and thrashed violently on the ground. Through eyes and ears and gaping mouth it consumed her. Slowly her movements began to grow weaker until her body lay in a tangled heap on the marble floor. Her crown had rolled free from her tangled hair a few feet away from her outstretched hands.

Abruptly the screams fells silent and it felt like the whole room held its' breath, waiting to see what fresh horror would happen next.

Despite the driving urge to get Kali as far away from this infernal court, Rhone found himself hesitating in the shadows of the hallway with them.

"No…" The soft whisper made him look down to see the familiar grey eyes of his mate fixed on the still figure on the ground. At first he thought he saw grief there, but that was quickly overwhelmed with horrifying recognition.

A soft scuffing sound made him look back at Delorea's body as it slowly twitched, then began to move. Pale hands tipped with burnished copper nails gradually touched the delicate features of her face, tracing over the delicately upturned nose and the long lashes that framed bright blue eyes. She sat up jerkily and stared down at her hand in the folds of her dress, turning them this way and that in the light. Oblivious to her audience.

Panic stirred in him, wild as a trapped animal. His fingers tightened protectively when he realized Kali's shields were down and everything she was feeling was being projected outward. "It's okay," he whispered, "I've got you."

"It's not okay," she panted back, eyes wide enough that he could see how her pupils were cloudy and dull with feverish pain. "It's not okay, not okay, not okay-"

Kali's panicked mantra cut off on a strangled gasp when the creature that was no longer Delorea got to its' feet in an awkward motion, like a marionette on strings. Rhone stared as the female slowly bent and picked up the discarded crown, settling it on her head and rising to her full height with a slow smile.

"Amarantha…" Kali breathed.

As if hearing her name, Amarantha turned in a blur of speed toward them, looking like a raptor spotting its' prey. Fear rose in him so strong that he reached deep into the frozen core of magic that was now his and yank up a wave of ice in a solid shield that blocked off their hallway. It spread through the hallway surrounding them in familiar cold. Through the clear layer, he watched dozens of arrows fire and ricochet harmlessly to the ground.

Amarantha prowled closer, the folds of Delorea's golden dress brushing the pale marble floor. Instinctively he took a step back, torn between getting Kali to safety and ending this monster before she had time to become more of a threat. She smiled wickedly, as though she sensed his inner struggle.

"High Lord of Winter," she purred, "it's been too long since I've felt your power." Amarantha brushed a finger along the frozen barrier and Rhone sucked in a breath when the wall crackled with tiny fractures that spread like a spider's web. "Tell me...where is Kallias?"

Her knowing smile was enough to tell him she already knew that his father was dead so Rhone didn't bother answer. Just took another step towards freedom.

Then her eyes dropped to Kali's mangled body.

"Kali," she crooned and his mate flinched like the words were barbs digging into her flesh. "Do you really think you can escape me?"

"Yes," Rhone snarled and released the ice that spread along the walls and ceiling in a avalanche of dirt and rubble and ran.  
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Oh snap! Amarantha is back and so is Kali! Was it worth the trade? We'll see...

Thank you for reading and I can't wait to read what your reactions are in the reviews! :)


	45. Lost and Broken

Rhone pounded down the hallway, trying to count doors and turns in his mind while listening for any signs of guards. Shouts from behind him warned him that his attempts to collapse the hall behind them wouldn't delay Amarantha's new army for long. The thought of the long-dead queen being resurrected-even partially-was mind boggling.

Had he damned all of Prythian to save his mate?

Each movement made Kali go paler than he thought was possible and still in his arms. He could see the muscles in her arms and legs were locked in an effort to keep from jostling her injuries more. Even with the threat of death looming over him, it felt like he was breathing for the first time since she'd left him that day in the throne room. Since he'd watched her fall from the balcony into the snow.

Even if the world burned around them, Rhone could not regret the opportunity to have one more minute with her in his arms.

Sliding around another corner, he flung up a wall of ice to block a few of the other hallways in a simple effort to keep the guards off their trail. There was no telling how many soldiers had been smuggled Under the Mountain, but clearly Delorea had been prepared to go to war with her aunt by her side. Already it was becoming next to impossible for him to navigate to the exit without getting caught in a firefight with an injured Kali in his arms.

The sight of an ornate, gilded landscape of the craggy mountains of Hybern forced his feet to new speeds. Rhone paused to listen for any pursuers before pressing the fingers of one hand to the roiling waves slamming into the dark rocks at the base of the cliffs. For a long, terrifying moment, he felt nothing but smooth canvas. Then his nails scraped across an uneven edge and he was lowering his shoulder to force open a long forgotten doorway.

A gust of wind, heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth, almost made his knees weaken with relief. "Almost there, Kali," he murmured into her tangled hair, "We're almost out of this hell hole."

She didn't respond and he had to wait for a breathless moment before he could feel the smallest flutter of her heartbeat against his seeking fingertips. It was enough to steady his own wild pulse enough for him to sprint down the corridor to the fresh air and sunlight outside, slamming the hidden door shut behind him. Shouts echoed in the hallways behind them and the mountain above him shifted like a beast awakening after a long slumber, sending rocks and dust tumbling through the air.

Rhone burst through the shrubs and tree branches that covered the hidden exit to the clearing where he'd left Stryker and the others. His friend spun with a relieved expression, "Rhone! Gods, man, what did you-" Stryker's relieved expression faded at the sight of Kali and his sentence trailed off on a harsh curse.

"Talia!" Rhone shouted, ignoring Juno and Freya's prancing excitement at the return of their favorite new packmate. Their steps faltered and ears went flat as they scented the blood that covered her and had already soaked into Rhone's clothing as well.

Talia rushed towards him, her magic like a warm wind against his battered defenses and eyes locked on the battered body of his mate in his arms. Her features paled slightly at the damage and he was surprised when, for the first time since he'd met her, the fae healer didn't curse or scold him-just stared at the shredded flesh left behind by the whip and countless other tortures. "Gods…" she whispered jaggedly.

"Help her," Rhone demanded, shaken by her expression. "Her pulse is fading-she's bleeding too much."

Aria stepped out of the trees nearby, a worried looking Kai at her flank. "We've got to move now-these woods are about to be crawling with soldiers." Her eyes were assessing and pragmatic as she took in the horrified expressions around her and the new addition to their group. "Rhone, give her to Talia-we need to put some distance between us and this hellhole. She'll keep her stable while we ride."

Rhone hesitated, reluctant to let go of his mate now that he'd finally found her again. The sounds of footsteps and rustling underbrush decided for him. Talia could at least begin healing Kali while they rode and maybe she could help with the pain that was cutting deep creases in his thief's brow.

He waited for Talia to mount her nervous looking horse before gently lifting Kali's slight form up to her. Immediately, Kali shifted, a soft moan ripping free from between clenched teeth. Talia's magic surged and Rhone growled worriedly when Kali went limp in her arms. "I just put her to sleep, High Lord. This ride won't be pleasant for her," Talia said quickly.

Stryker tossed him the reins to his gelding and Rhone swung himself in the saddle, taking Talia's reins so she could focus on keeping Kali stable and comfortable.

"Should we head back to Winter?" Kai asked over the sound of stamping horses, dark eyes worried.

The thought of exposing Kali to the chaos of his home made Rhone shake his head. He wouldn't be able to guarantee her safety as long as he was still being hunted for killing his father and brother. "We'll go to Summer," he said instead, remembering Kali's whispered admission in his mother's solarium.

Maybe I want you to find me.

No one questioned the abrupt decision, just spun their mounts and thundered down the narrow path away from the mountain and the horrors that he'd awakened.

A few hours later Talia signalled for them to stop with a shrill whistle. They were barely past the borders of Summer and the dark forests of the Middle though there was still no sign of the sprawling, white-stoned cities that the Summer lands were famous for. Stars glittered overhead and helped ensure that their pursuers weren't able to follow their tracks even if Aria still looked impatient with the delay. "Talia, what-"

The blonde healer slid off her saddle, cradling Kali's sagging form in her arms. "She's not going to make it."

No.

Rhone was on the ground and running to her in an instant, unsure if he'd spoken the word aloud or it was locked in his mind like the tattered whisper of their bond. "No," he repeated, "No, you have to fix her. Heal her."

"I'm not a damned god!" Talia snapped, rolling Kali on her side so the sandy soil didn't get into her wounds. "Even I have limits and she's lost too much blood. Frankly, I don't know how she's still breathing. It would be a kindness to let her pass." Her voice softened at the agony in his gaze, "I'm sorry, Rhone."

No no no no no. Not like this. Not when he'd just found her again.

"Try again," Rhone demanded grimly.

"Rhone…" Stryker's hand closed around his shoulder in a comforting squeeze, but he knocked it away.

"Try again."

Talia glanced at Aria and Stryker briefly before nodding slowly, features grim. Carefully she spread her cloak on the ground and they eased Kali onto the stained wool so the thick, salt grass didn't irritate her exposed flesh. Talia's hands hovered over the ruined skin and flesh of Kali's back and she scanned her body with pursed lips. "I don't even know where to begin," she muttered before a soft glow filled her palms, casting her features in a warm light.

Rhone ripped down the barriers he'd carefully erected around his powers and let it pour out of him in a burst of power that flowed into Talia like a surging current. There was no time to wonder if the mercenaries would use this against him later-not when it could save his mate. She stiffened slightly as the light in her palms bloomed, but Rhone's eyes remained fixed on the jagged red lines speckled with pale white that his brain informed him was bone along Kali's back. Hoping against hope that this would be enough.

"Stay with me, little thief," he pleaded and pressed a kiss to Kali's bruised knuckles, the only place where he could be sure a touch wouldn't hurt her. "Don't disappear again. Don't leave me."

Talia pressed closer, pushing the heat and light of her power into ruined skin and muscle, knitting together sluggishly. The healer ignored the bruises and cuts that littered the exposed skin of her face and arms to focus on what was left of Kali's back, her brows furrowed in concentration. Juno and Freya pressed in on either side of him, whining softly and licking at the blood that was caked on Kali's arms. The others huddled nearby, scanning the area for anyone that might be attracted to the glow of magic in the the otherwise still night and giving them as much privacy as possible.

Rhone kept his eyes fixed on his mate, clutching to the ragged thread that meant Kali was alive. That she was still here. That he hadn't been too late.

Eventually-hours or minutes later, he wasn't sure-Talia leaned back, looking as pale and weak as Kali. "That's as much as I can do for right now," she said, looking to Aria. "Once we're somewhere safe and I can get some sleep, I'll try to do more."

Rhone nodded gratefully, trailing fingers over a back that had once been littered with scars but was now smooth. He wasn't sure if Kali would be grateful that the reminder of her past was gone or if it just meant the scars had penetrated deeper, to a place he couldn't reach.

"Will she-" It was an effort to get the words out, "Will she survive this?"

"It's too soon to tell," Talia said bluntly, rolling her shoulders to ease some of the tension. "I've healed the worst of it, but...it's still not enough." Gently, the healer traced the jagged, poorly closed wound on Kali's side. Dark black and sickly green lines trailed away from the mark in a visceral representation of her suffering. "It's infected. Bad enough that I wasn't able to clear all of the toxins while I was healing her back. It will slow the healing process."

The image of Thrace's knife sinking deep into the soft skin of her stomach made his heart ache and he carefully picked Kali up off the ground, her slight weight a comforting burden. Rhone lifted her onto his horse's saddle and pulled himself up behind her, settling her head against his chest and shifting her into the protective shelter of his body. Even in the balmy air of the Summer Court, she still felt cold and clammy to the touch.

Stryker nudged his horse closer, face somber. "Summer will learn of Kallias' murder and the charges against you quickly. It isn't safe to linger so close to the Winter Court while you're still wanted." He scrubbed a hand over his face, "I sent messages to your mother and Phinn, but I can't be sure that they've received or even believe them. They won't be able to stop Tarquin if he decides to imprison you and turn you over to Thrace's allies."

"Tarquinn won't turn on us," Rhone replied evenly.

"You sound remarkably sure of that for a wanted criminal carrying an equally notorious thief in his arms."

Rhone smiled slightly at the ire in his tone. "The High Lord of Summer won't turn us over to the Winter Court until he sees for himself if the rumors are true."

Stryker frowned, "What rumors?"

"That Kali is Calypso, the lost princess of Summer."  
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Dun dun DUN! So Rhone knew the truth of Kali's parentage after all... Wonder what Tarquin will think about the news or if he'll even believe it. Poor Kali still has a long way to go before we'll know if Rhone was able to save in time and how will she handle learning about everything that happened while she was out of it?

I hope you enjoyed this update! I plan to have another chapter out after I update the Stryker/ Aria spinoff which shouldn't take too long.

Thank you for your reviews and continued support! (Especially after reading over 100,000 words of this story! Wow!)


	46. Summer Camp

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

Stryker’s annoyed voice made Rhone sigh, exhaustion making the muscles in his arms shake from the strain of balancing Kali’s unconscious form on top of his horse. He was grateful she was petite--if she were as tall as Aria he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep her stable in the saddle.

His mate’s soft, even breath brushed against the skin exposed by the collar of his shirt like a caress and he wished they were back in their home in Kharos. He wished he’d never allowed Delorea to manipulate him in the palace. That he’d never had to witness the devastation on Kali’s face or the sight of her disappearing off that balcony.

But all the wishes in the world wouldn’t bring back everything he’d lost that day.

“Stop whining,” Aria bit out irritably, “I know where we’re going.”

“Maybe we should find a town so we can figure out where we are.”

“I know where we are.”

Rhone pulled his horse to the back of their small group before their argument became violent and sidled over to where Talia was beginning to nod off in the saddle. The healer blinked wearily at him and he watched her eyes automatically check on Kali’s condition before returning to him. 

“Is it normal for her to be sleeping this much?” he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice. “It’s been hours since you healed her and she’s still completely out of it.”

Talia shrugged, “She shouldn’t even be alive right now, much less sleeping. I’ve never heard of someone managing to heal that much damage so quickly.” The blonde female paused with a slightly curious expression, “Whatever you did to my magic was enough to heal the worst of the damage, but she still has a long way to go.”

Rhone nodded, tucking his cloak more firmly around his mate even though the air was balmy and warm compared to Kharos. Satisfaction bloomed at the idea that he was able to at least help in this way. Still, there was far too much pain and darkness on his mind. 

“You said she had an infection?”

“Yes,” Talia replied grimly, “whatever bastard closed up that stab wound didn’t bother to clean it. They must not have planned for her to live long enough to die from that when there were so many other ways to end her.”

He winced at her brutal summary, tightening his hold on Kali as if he could protect her from what had already been done. The anger that made his blood feel like ice and the air around him chill lingered. Rhone wondered if there would ever be a moment where he didn’t feel like he would explode at the thought of everything that had happened in the last week. 

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for saving her,” he said solemnly, letting her see the truth of it in his expression.

Talia gave him a brief smile, her expression softer than he’d ever seen on the normally shrewish healer. “Just make sure she stays in one piece from now on.”

Gods how he wished he could guarantee that. 

Ahead of them, he could hear the unfamiliar sound of waves crashing against the shoreline. Juno and Freya loped along in front of the horses--no doubt running straight for the water to soak their aching feet. He hoped they would at least wash away the blood from the poor rabbit they’d cornered that turned their white fur bright red. 

The sight of the endless dark waters blooming golden in the first light of dawn was a disconcerting sight for someone who’d spent most of their life in the freezing tundras of the Winter Court. Even more so now for Rhone.

This was Kali’s home.

He could feel it in his bones. In the salt spray in the air and the unforgiving sun that was already beating down on the earth, baking the tough grasses and dirt under their feet. In the soft breeze that ruffled the short strands of his hair in an unfamiliar rush. This was where his mate was born to be. To rule.

Aria made a gesture that had her team shifting to the east, cutting across the dunes to the shoreline. At first he thought she was leading them directly into the surf, but they only walked slowly in the shallows of the incoming tide. The sea water splashed against the material of his pants and boots, washing away some of the blood that had mixed with the dust from the road to replace with the white crust of dried ocean water.

Ahead of them, Aria turned into the cliff line and a small cove that was mostly hidden from the open dunes. “This is the best we can do for cover without going into the city,” she said briskly, sliding off her weary mount. “We can make camp here for a few days until she’s stable and plan where to go from here.”

Rhone carefully slipped out of the saddle, ignoring the groan of his stiff muscles in favor of bracing Kali more firmly against him. Her bare body felt impossibly frail and small against him, all the light and strength of her dimmed beneath a layer of misery and suffering.

“Set her down in the shade over there and we’ll set up the tents,” Stryker called from a few yards away. The others worked quickly to strip the sweaty, salt crusted gear off their horses to let them nibble at the salt grass nearby. Without needing a command, the scarred Illyrian female trekked up the craggy cliff side to watch the beach for any followers or Summer soldiers, her winged outline blending surprisingly well against the rocks. He wondered absently if she just enjoyed the height and solitude.

Hesitantly, Rhone found a shady spot against the cliffs and settled Kali onto the sand with his cloak draped around her. He cupped her cheek gently, brushing his thumb over the bruised skin in a quick caress before straightening and turning to help Stryker unload the rest of the gear. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured to her. 

She frowned slightly, shifting restlessly against the sands like she was reacting to his words. If it weren’t for the lines of pain bracketing her full lips, he could pretend she was frowning up at him like she always had when he did something she didn’t like.

He never imagined that it would be something he’d miss.

As he walked across the soft ground, Rhone saw, out of the corner of his eye, Kai stiffen where he stood near the last of the packs. Before he could ask what was wrong, Talia made a hoarse sound of agony and fell to her knees, clutching her body as though her flesh was on fire. He spun toward her only to see Kai fall to the earth beside her, followed by Aria and Stryker to his left. His friend curled his body protectively around the dark haired female, their breath jagged with pain.

What was happening?

Instinctively, Rhone grabbed the sword that was slung low on his hip, but hesitated when he couldn’t seem to find a source for the inexplicable pain of the others. He glanced back at Kali with a frown, but she remained still on the ground, unconscious as far as he could tell.

Talia was cursing a blue streak and struggling to rise to her feet so Rhone sprinted over to where she was, helping to support her sagging form. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” he pressed, still looking around the cove for signs of an attack.

Why wasn’t he being affected?

Her fingers clutched at the sand beneath her, her skin turning pale despite her tanned skin. “I don’t…” The healer’s words trailed off as another shudder rippled over her and left her dry heaving helplessly.

A memory of soldiers in foreign uniforms, pleading and begging for relief surged to the forefront of his mind. There hadn’t been any sign of outward injury and yet Kali had brought them to their knees with barely any effort. Talia had mentioned that the infection might cause some side effects--would it also lead to a loss of the mental shields that kept her powers under control?

“Kali…” Stryker gasped, confirming his suspicions.

His mate was thrashing now, movements fitfull and lacking the cat-like grace he associated with her. Sweat trickled down one cheek, mingling with the tears slipping free from the silvery grey of her lashes. 

Rhone abandoned Talia in the sands to sprint back to his mate, pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently. “Kali, sweetheart, you have to stop,” he begged, leaning forward so he could murmur into her ear, “You’re hurting the people who saved you. You have to get your shields up, baby.”

He kept talking to her, hoping his voice would soothe her. Comforting nonsense meant to ease an ache that he couldn’t understand, couldn’t fathom even after seeing the results of her time Under the Mountain. Footsteps nearby told him that his efforts were not in vain so he settled for humming that bawdy tavern song that had lured him to her the first night in Kharos, smiling slightly at the memory of her shocked face. 

“She’s a gods damned empath,” Talia growled, looking annoyed. “Any reason you didn’t feel the need to let me know that?” She leveled a glare at Rhone and a tired looking Stryker who was busy trying to help Aria to her feet.

Rhone didn’t respond, just kept rocking Kali slowly, continuing to murmur to her.

Stryker scowled when Aria brushed aside his hand and looked over at the thief and former soldier. “Why do you think? Most fae would kill her on sight and Rhone is frantic enough as it is.”

A chunk of ice thumped into Stryker’s shoulder and he spun to glare at an equally annoyed Rhone. “I didn’t think it would matter,” he explained briskly to Talia and Aria, who walked over with a curious expression.

“I’ve never met an empath before,” she said speculatively, “Can her abilities work in combat? Or just when she’s out of control?”

“She isn’t a soldier.” Rhone’s voice was little more than a growl despite how gentle his hands were on Kali.

“She took out an entire squadron of Hybern mercenaries on her own,” Stryker replied for him, drawing Rhone’s irritation back to him instead of Aria.

“Interesting...she was able to replicate pain when we had no injuries,” Aria leaned closer, hands tucked into the pockets of her filthy pants. “There aren’t any empaths left in Hybern-- the king had them all hunted and killed. I’ve never seen one in action.”

“She normally keeps it under control,” Rhone said defensively, worried that these mercenaries might become a threat to his mate. 

He didn’t want to admit that he’d seen her lose control with almost devastating consequences. His little thief wasn’t a killer, despite her ability in battle. She only fought when cornered or when someone she cared about was in danger--the fact that Delorea still breathed after what must have been years of abuse proved that. Kali was good--even if the world had never been good to her.

“Why aren’t you using your mate bond to keep her calm?” Kai asked, taking a step closer to peer down at Kali’s tiny body. Rhone tugged his cloak high around her shoulders and released a low growl that had the other male moving back to stand beside Aria. He took a breath, trying to push back the fear and protective rage that made his temper and magic surge in wild bursts. 

“She was taken before we could complete the bond.” A simple explanation for the most devastating moment of his life.

Aria pointedly didn’t look at Stryker when she spoke, “Mate bonds don’t guarantee safety or support--it may not have helped anything anyway.”

Stryker looked away, a pained expression on his face and Rhone found himself wondering again what had caused the rift between the two mates.

“You’re going to have to stay close to her then,” Talia grumped, brushing away the sand on her clothes with quick movements to hide the way her hands were still shaking. “It’s going to take some time before she’ll be conscious--if she ever does--and I don’t feel like getting knocked on my ass every time you step away.”

Rhone didn’t bother to respond to an unnecessary command. He had no intention of ever letting his little thief out of his sight again.


	47. Reality

Kali lingered in an endless ocean of misery, resting on a tide of numbing pain that rushed in with each breath. Endless. Consuming. Drowning her in white hot agony that ebbed and flowed with brutal force.

She wished she could force her chest to still and her stubborn heart to lay still. 

Instead she remained locked in that place of suffering by unfamiliar hands that held her down each time she thrashed and begged for the relief of numb darkness that blanketed her for brief moments of nothingness.

The infection she’d felt in the pit seemed to settle deeper into her veins, making it difficult to think. To remember. It trapped her in a useless body, unable to move or escape her captors.

We are alone again, a familiar voice whispered, curling through her mind like a fog.

Rhone…

Rhone isn’t coming back, the darkest part of her continued implacably. 

The hurt was enough to drag her consciousness to the surface of that endless sea, back to reality. Kali shifted fitfully, feeling an unfamiliar scrape of fabric against bare skin. She could hear a soft, comforting sound that repeated endlessly in time with the slow pump of blood through her body.

She frowned, mind still sluggish, and tried to remember where she knew that sound.

Had Delorea found a new way to torture her in the pit?

Slowly, cautiously, Kali opened gritty eyes and blinked up at an unfamiliar canvas ceiling. A tent, her mind supplied after a moment, I’m in a tent. Why would Delorea make her think she was in a tent?

She remained still, keeping her breathing even in the rhythm of a deep sleep so as not to let the guards know she was awake. Muffled footsteps outside and the low murmur of voices warned her she wasn’t alone and she had no intention of letting them know she was conscious until she was ready to face them.

Curling her fingers, Kali forced herself to test each of her limbs for mobility, ignoring the weariness that made her want to sink back into sleep. At least there she would have to face a more painful reality. 

Surprisingly, her back and most of her injuries felt better, healed even. Delorea must have decided to heal her so they could begin their tortures again. That meant Rhone hadn’t given her the book yet.

The thought of the spellbook made brief flashes of memory flicker through her mind. Delorea’s delighted chuckle. Crackling ice and snow and…

Kali sat up abruptly, twisting her head to look around the tent to find herself laying on a simple cot that was the only furniture in the sheltered space. Her stomach twinged at the movement but the pain was child’s play compared to what she’d already endured. Someone had removed most of the blood that had coated her skin and brushed all the tangles out of her long silvery hair so that it brushed against her shoulders and back in soft waves. She needed to find clothes and weapons so she could be prepared for whatever fresh horrors Delorea had concocted this time.

The sound of soft breathing nearby made her look down and suck in a startled breath.

Rhone lay on his side on the sandy ground, one arm tucked under his head for a makeshift pillow and the other resting on her cot only a few inches away from her side. She drank in the sight of him greedily, noting the deep lines of tension that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him in the palace. Hands fighting to hold onto her even as Thrace’s guards dragged him back.

Her mate.

Her own hands were moving toward him instinctively before her mind caught up, clenching her outstretched fingers into fists. This had to be a trick. Delorea had told her that Rhone was really her mate and the look on his face confirmed all of her worst fears were true. Even if this wasn’t some kind of hallucination, the truth would always be just as bleak.

The smile on her face faded slowly as understanding replaced the overwhelming relief she’d felt at the sight of him and she looked around the tent once more. Bloodied bandages littered the ground around her with sharp smelling liquids in carefully marked jars. Sunlight poured into the tent through the cracked opening and she realized the sound that had lulled her in and out of sleep was...water.

Where were they?

Helplessly she looked back down at Rhone, noting the torn and bloodied clothing he wore and wished she could wake him without worrying where his loyalties lay. Unfamiliar voices, male and female, passed by the tent on their way towards the water and she strained her ears to pick up snatches of their conversation over the sound of the waves.

“How long….need to get moving….”

A male voice, Stryker she realize with a lurch, sounded worried, “No response yet.”

Was Stryker a part of this too?

Holding her breath, Kali waited until the voices faded before wrapping the blanket more tightly around herself in order to reach the pack that leaned against the end of the cot. Each movement felt like she was forcing her way through a thick layer of mud and drained her flagging strength. How was she going to be able to limp away from this place without getting dragged back for whatever Delorea had planned?

Her fingers fumbled with the leather ties that kept the bag and she grit her teeth at each tiny sound. If Rhone woke up before she got away, if he really was a part of everything Delorea had planned…

It would break her.

Finally the bag opened and she reached deep into the pouch, hoping to find at least a knife to use in her escape or clothes to help shield her from the sun beating down on the tent above her. 

Anything that could get her away from the truth that would be exposed if Rhone opened his eyes. 

The thought was enough to make her eyes burn and the satchel in front of her blur slightly. Kali pressed her fists against her eyes, willing the tears to stop and her will to escape return. The weakest part of her wanted to curl up beside Rhone and pretend everything was alright, to believe he would never hurt her. But all she could think about was the victorious glint in Delorea’s eyes each time she described the way Rhone had touched her, kissed her, believed her to be his mate. 

Her shoulders slumped forward and she suddenly wished she could return to the numb darkness as she had before she opened her eyes in this stupid tent. 

“Kali?” The hoarse voice behind her made everything in her still and her heart thunder in her ears. She told herself not to look, not to confirm that Rhone was working with Delorea--that all of her worst fears could be true.

But she never had been able to refuse him.

Slowly, Kali turned to find Rhone sitting up, eyes blazing with an emotion she was too afraid to register. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and dark circles marred the pale skin of his face like bruises. It made something in her break when she saw the wild panic and worry in his expression and the way his eyes traced each of her features like he expected her to disappear if he blinked. 

She shifted nervously, clutching the sheet like a flimsy shield, “Where--”

Her words were cut off with a soft sound of surprise as Rhone lunged forward, arms wrapping around her and crushing her against his chest. A chest that shuddered under her touch as he curled her against him, pressing her bare skin against his rumpled clothing. “Kali,” he repeated like a prayer, “Kali, you’re awake. You’re finally awake. Gods, I don’t even care if this is a dream--you’re awake.”

By the Mother, she’d forgotten how big he was. Or how good he smelled, or the way his hands cradled the curves of her body like she was precious, fragile even.

A part of her softened at the relief that made his hands shake while he stroked over the bare skin of her back in soothing motions and pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder, heaving a jagged breath. The sensation made her frown. Where were her scars? Where was the brutal evidence of her life Under the Mountain?

Her mind filled with the jagged pain of the whip slicing into her over and over again and she stiffened at the echo of pain. Each stripe ripping away at the layers of hope and happiness and love that she’d built in the light and freedom away from Amarantha’s realm.

She should have bled out by now--she wanted to bleed out by now. Before Delorea could force her to admit where Amarantha’s spell book really was. Before Rhone came to deliver it or took the book and ran--she wasn’t sure which option would be more painful to witness. Her death was the only way she could keep Rhone and the rest of the world safe from Delorea’s plans. 

So why wasn’t she dead?

Memories trickled in slowly, sluggishly, as though her mind didn’t want to remember the agonies of the pit or the sight of Rhone charging into the throne room to face Delorea. He had ignored every warning, every plea she made with the same stubborn, foolish determination that he faced his brother with.

“I don’t understand,” she said slowly, pulling back so she could see his face.

“It’s okay,” Rhone replied gently, tucking a long, curling strand of her hair behind her ear, “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Panic clawed at her, tightening its grip on her chest until she had to struggle to breathe. To think past the urge to scream and scream until her throat was raw and all of her terror ripped free from her body. Her lungs labored in and out in a rapid rhythm that made the room turn grey at the edges and Rhone lean in to say something else, but she couldn’t hear it past the pounding blood in her ears. Just stared at his lips moving, forming words that could never hope to comfort her.

It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she gasped, trying to break his hold on her arms, “How am I here? What did you do, Rhone? What did you give her?”

Rhone went very still.

She stared up into the face of the male she’d sacrificed everything to keep safe and saw the same desperation she’d felt in that night with his blood on her hands reflected in the blue green of his eyes. In the grim set of his mouth and the feathering muscle on his jaw. Saw the guilt chase away the joy and relief.

Saw the truth.

“The book,” Kali whispered in horror, “You gave her the book.”

 

Kali is awake! Let me know what y'all think!


	48. Fallout

Rhone told himself he was prepared for the inevitable fallout when Kali woke up. That he was willing to accept her fury or heartache so long as she was alive to do so. He told himself he would even accept if she refused to acknowledge their mate bond. He would never chain her to him if she no longer wanted him--though he had no intention of accepting that decision without a fight.

Every night spent cradling her to him as nightmare after nightmare assaulted her poor broken body, all the soft whispers and promises he’d made to her sleeping form had felt like an eternity of torture. A bone deep loneliness that made it impossible for him to eat or sleep beyond what was necessary to watch over Kali more effectively. He’d pushed away Stryker and the others in favor of continuing his silent watch and thinking of ways to tell her the truth.

She was his mate. His only, now and forever.

But he found all of his plans disappearing in the wake of her wide, terrified eyes and the wash of a cold emotion that he’d only felt once before from her.

Betrayal. 

It sank like a stone to the pit of his stomach, rendering all of his careful explanations moot. Twisted like a knife in his lungs until it was a struggle to breathe against the wild emotions that made the air around them hang like chains, cementing them to the earth. 

Rhone felt her pain like it was his own. He’d done the right thing, the only thing that would save her from the agony of dying in that gods forsaken pit they created for her. His chest tightened painfully and his throat ached with a litany of useless words that would do nothing to take this pain from her. He thought he could bear losing her as long as he knew she was still alive, but he couldn’t handle being the one that hurt her so badly.

He watched her lips form the words that would destroy the relief and joy that her open eyes created.

“You gave her the book.”

Kali’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated with the evidence of the drugs still lingering in her system and her voice shook. It felt like the walls of the tent should be shifting and expanding with the force of her terror and dread. 

He gave her the truth. “Yes.”

Slowly, she pushed herself away from him, clutching the thin green blanket he’d tucked around her like a shield. He let his nerveless fingers release their hold on her arms, giving her the space she so desperately needed to regain her composure. He remained on his knees beside her cot, clenching his hands on the edge of it to keep from reaching out to her again.

How did things go so wrong between them?

The fabric at the entrance of the tent pushed open and, in the corner of his eyes, he saw Stryker and Aria step inside. Kali didn’t look away from Rhone and he thought he heard a note of pleading in her voice, begging him to tell her the worst hadn’t already occurred. “Did she do it?” she whispered.

“Kali…” he began but she made a rough sound that drew him up short.

“Did she bring her back?” she demanded and he heard Stryker suck in a surprised breath.

Rhone felt last bit of hope freeze into the same numbness that had been his companion since the moment Kali left him. Let it settle into him like a brittle shield against the condemnation he now faced. He would give her the truth even if it damned him.

“Yes.”

The word triggered a burst of that wild agony from Kali--too complex for him to interpret--and a curse from Aria. She gasped in a ragged lungful of air and he watched a tear dripped free from her eye. The sensation of it was like a dam breaking and Kali pressed her fists to her eyes, trying to stop the silent sobs that made her shoulders shake.

“Kali, please,” Rhone tried again, but she only shook her head, grey eyes wild.

“I told you--I warned you that she couldn’t have it!” Kali’s voice rose and he felt the warmth of the anger she used to cloak her internal agony, “Everything I did, everything I sacrificed was to keep Amarantha in the ground! And you just walked in and gave it to her. I thought--” She cut herself off with a near hysterical laugh, “Get out.”

“I only wanted--” 

“What? To help your mate?” Kali’s voice was vicious, lashing out in an attempt to dodge the pain that made her hands shake around her flimsy shield. “Delorea made it clear exactly how long you’ve been meeting with her behind my back.”

“I never helped Delorea!”

“Look, you did your job. You can go back Under the Mountain and tell all your little buddies how you royally screwed me over.” She shook her head, pale hair sliding over her bare shoulders. “I can’t believe I fell for every word you said. Be proud of yourself--you even got some sex out of the deal.”

“That’s not the way it was!”

“That’s exactly the way it was. Delorea was your mate all along and I was the idiot who trusted you with everything I had. Even after finding out, even after all the proof that you were part of her scheme, I still gave you the damned book. I still thought you’d do the right thing,” Kali’s voice broke and he flinched when she buried her face into the blanket, trying and failing to muffle the sounds of her weeping.

Rhone stared at her and felt the weight of his guilt settle in deep in his core. She was right. He’d damned all the consequences the moment his fingers closed around the note in Thrace’s room. 

The only way to make this right was to kill Amarantha.

Talia shoved through the clustered group at the door with an impatient snort, interrupting his line of thought. “Out, all of you,” she snapped, making a shooing motion at Stryker and Aria. “She is still weak and I won’t have you hulking warriors ruining all my hard work.” When Rhone remained still on his knees beside the cot, the healer leveled a hard stare on him. “That includes you, High Lord.”

Kali sucked in a surprised breath at the title, but didn’t protest. It stung more than it should have.

Slowly, he stood and walked to the doorway, looking back once to see his mate staring silently down at her hands, the smooth, scarless skin of her back looking foreign in the sunlight. He pushed the ragged edges of his mind that wanted to beg her to forgive him, to understand deep into his psyche and stepped out into the open sea air. 

Juno and Freya raced forward with joyful yips that faded at his obvious distress. Their dark noses twitched as they scented him and he watched Juno slip between the folds of the tent entrance to check on Kali. Good.

He made it two steps before a hard hand latched onto his arm and forced him to turn and look at the wild green eyes of his spymaster.

“When were you planning to tell us about Amarantha?” Stryker demanded, his chest rising and falling in a ragged rhythm.

Rhone raked his fingers through his short hair, trying to force his mind away from the tent behind him to focus on the long list of problems he faced. “I wasn’t sure you would help us if you knew.”

Stryker looked like he’d struck him. “You’re my family--of course I would have helped you.”

Aria stepped closer, laying a hand on Stryker’s arm in the first voluntary touch he’d seen between the two. Then her eyes were on Rhone, “How is this possible?”

“Delorea used Amarantha’s spell book to raise what was left of her back, but it wasn’t enough to piece together her body,” he explained wearily, “So she took over Delorea’s.”

Stryker hissed and broke away from Aria to pace over the sands. Aria watched him move without expression. “It won’t take long for the survivors of the king’s army to see this as an opportunity to win back everything they lost,” she speculated, “Amarantha successfully held Prythian and its High Lord’s in her grip for fifty years--fae will be eager to see if she can do it again.”

“Yes,” Rhone said quietly.

Stryker whirled on him, “Stop bloody saying yes!”

“I won’t make excuses,” he growled, his temper flickering weakly under the weight of his exhaustion. “I knew Delorea had something planned with the book that Kali was willing to die to prevent. I just wasn’t willing to let her.”

“Damn it,” Stryker cursed, looked at him, then cursed again.

“Is she fully returned?” Aria asked and he watched her make a quick gesture that had the Illyrian leaping off the cliff and heading into the tent to help Talia. 

“I don’t know…” He said, weary down to his very bones. Freya leaned against his leg, her familiar weight like an anchor. “I took off before she could do more than just speak.”

“Do you still have connections in Hybern?” Stryker abruptly asked Aria. At her nod, he continued, “See how far the news has spread and what kind of manpower she’s gathered.”

Aria moved away, heading towards Kai and Stryker returned his attention to Rhone. “We need more allies. The Winter Court is in shambles--I don’t know how many soldiers we can muster.”

“Send a messenger to Rhysand--he’ll be eager to help put Amarantha back in the ground.” The memory of his thief quietly weeping in the arms of the daemati High Lord made him glance back at the tent as though he would be able to see Kali there. No sound emerged from the thick canvas and he dragged another breath of air into his lungs.

Focus.

Amarantha needed to die for Kali to feel safe again. He would do this for her, even if it killed him.

“Have you heard anything from Tarquin?” He asked Stryker. 

The Summer High Lord was a wild card. Summer traditionally remained neutral in conflicts between the other Courts, but Rhone was hopefully the news of his lost sister and the return of Amarantha would be enough to bring his army to their aid. 

“Not yet,” Stryker mutter, eyes distant as he considered their options. “We need to move quickly--before she has a chance to gather any allies.”

“Any word from my mother?”

Stryker shook his head, “Last I heard, she was still locked away in her rooms while Phinn worked to keep everything under control.”

“Send him a message about what has happened and tell him to gather as many loyal soldiers as possible to march on the Mountain.”

Stryker gave him a grim smile, “I’ll see what kind of monsters of our own I can drum up for our forces.” He paused, reaching out a gentle hand to once again wrap around Rhone’s arm, “You can’t disappear like that on us again. We can’t afford to have a High Lord who is distracted--even if she is your mate.”

Rhone forced himself to focus on the fight ahead of them instead of the tent at his back. “I’m here now. I won’t stop until Amarantha is dead.”


	49. Men are Idiots

Kali stared down at the dark green blanket that was her only cover and wished she didn’t feel like an empty shell, washed away by the icy understanding of Rhone’s betrayal. The anger she’d clung to felt hollow and insignificant now. A brittle shield that fractured more with every passing moment.

“Idiots,” the slender blonde fae muttered as she stared at the abandoned doorway. “Don’t they know not to upset a sick person?”

Kali remained silent, numb down to her toes now that the tide of anger left her.

“I’m Talia,” the female introduced quickly, “the healer who has the misfortune of tending to this lot. I’m guess you already know Stryker, but the dark haired fae with him is Aria--she runs this unit.” As she spoke, Talia rummaged through the packs on the ground to produce a pair of pants and a loose, long sleeved shirt. “I’ll wager you’ll feel a little better if you’re not sitting naked in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of strangers.”

Kali nodded gratefully and accepted her help pulling on the soft clothing. All she could feel from the healer was a mild irritation directed at something else and a deep well of concern, endless as the ocean outside. It made some of her tension ease. Despite her prickly exterior, Talia didn’t appear to be a threat.

After she was dressed, Kali was forced to sit back down on the edge of the cot or face the embarrassment of collapsing in front of this stranger. Both of them looked up when Juno pushed her way into the tent and made a happy sound at the sight of Kali. The wolf dartered across the small space and rubbed her large body against Kali’s legs, careful despite her size not to jostle her too much. Some of Kali’s sadness ebbed at the sight of her furry shadow healthy and happy here. She sank her fingers deep into the thick fur of her ruff, running her fingers through the soft undercoat and trying to match the steady rhythm of the heartbeat beneath her hand.

“Where am I?” she finally asked, voice hoarse.

“A few miles away from Adirata in one of Aria’s hidey holes.”

That close...Kali felt a fresh wave of worry hit her gut. She was too close to Adriata to feel this raw and out of control.

“What--” she cleared her throat and shifted the question away from Rhone, “What did you give me?”

“The wound on your side was infected badly enough that it spread throughout your body--not to mention the mess they made of your back,” Talia’s lips pursed in displeasure. “You’ve been pretty heavily sedated and given every kind of cure I could think of to try to beat back the blood sickness. It will be a few days before you’re back to your normal strength.” The healer put a gentle hand on her forehead to check for fever and nodded, “The cocktail of medicines I’ve given you might make your abilities fluctuate more than usual - though, you being conscious should help somewhat.”

Kali winced, already tired of this weakness. Her mind felt blurry and distant, playing the image of Rhone’s distraught face over and over again. To push away the unwanted thoughts, she addressed the healer again, “Why did you help me? Are you from Hybern too?”

“Yes--” the word made Kali’s head snap up and her magic surged to her fingers, ready to fight if need be, but Talia only arched an eyebrow, “--but that was a long time ago. We haven’t worked with anyone in Hybern for nearly a century. Our unit has found much more satisfying work in Prythian.”

She let out a shaky breath, but continued to press her, “So why are you here?”

 

“Listen,” Talia snapped with another burst of irritation against Kali’s shields like heat from an oven, “I don’t have to explain why I helped haul your ungrateful ass back from death’s door. I’m a healer--it’s what we do.” With a disgusted sound, she began to rifle through the packs once again, pulling out a few of the bottles. Juno made a disgruntled sound when Kali’s distraction meant she stopped petting her, flopping down on the cot despite its’ creak of protest.

Kali’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she looked down at her hands again. It wasn’t fair to place blame on the healer just because she was furious with Rhone. Her eyes kept flicking back to the entrance of the tent as though she could sense where he was through the fabric. She was hopeless.

He betrayed you, you idiot, she growled to herself. Lesson learned.

Still her heart thundered in her ears at the sound of soft footsteps outside of the tent, but it wasn’t the familiar figure of her princeling on the other side. Instead, a tall, heavily scarred Illyrian female stepped into the shade from the awning and gave her a cursory glance. Kali’s eyes tracked over the wicked scar that bisected her throat, only barely covered by a white siphon that gleamed with an opalescent sheen.

“Illyrian,” Kali blurted, mind trying to piece together how an Illyrian female was so far from the camps. All she’d learned of their society spoke of a fiercely patriarchal system that kept a close watch on their females--even to the point of clipping their wings. She glanced over the female’s shoulder to see more pale scars marring the dark wings tucked tight against her back to avoid scraping the ceiling.

Talia glanced over and gave a sweeping gesture, “This is Ifrit--she’s part of our unit. Try not to insult her.”

Kali narrowed her eyes at the bad tempered healer - which was openly ignored - before giving Ifrit a weak smile. “I’m Kali.”

Instead of answering, Ifrit silently handed her a blade that gleamed wickedly in the sunlight and Kali looked up at her in surprise. The Illyrian’s hands moved in a quick, complicated pattern.

“She says she knows what it’s like to be defenseless and that a good knife goes a long way against it,” Talia translated.

Kali wrapped her fingers around the handle, tears stinging at her eyes once again. She cleared her throat and glanced at the blonde, “How do you say thank you?”

Talia made a simple gesture that Kali replicated to Ifrit who smiled at her. “She can hear just fine--it’s speaking that’s the problem,” the healer explained.

“Speaking is what gets most people in trouble,” The dark haired mercenary from before muttered as she stepped into the tent. She paused to give Kali a brief smile, “Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

Kali wasn’t sure how to respond so she just shrugged.

“Males,” Aria continued with a disgusted snort as though Kali had responded, “they’re next to useless.”

“More than useless,” Talia agreed.

Ifrit made series of those graceful gestures to Aria, who scowled, “You didn’t have to bring that up.”

Kali looked over at Talia who explained with a wicked grin, “Ifrit reminded Aria that she used to have a number of other uses for Stryker.”

Aria seemed to sense she was losing the high ground and made a dismissive gesture. “That was a long time ago - now he’s just as much of a nuisance as any other male.” Talia and Ifrit didn’t look convinced, but they didn’t press the issue. So Aria leaned against the central post and regarded Kali with a level gaze. “Mates can be a gift and a curse.”

Kali looked away. “He’s not my mate.”

“Funny, he doesn’t seem to agree.”

Frustration had Kali tightening her hold on her gifted knife, threading it through her fingers in a complicated pattern in an attempt to distract herself from the complicated knot of emotions that was Rhone. Somehow Rhone believed he was mated to Delorea, despite the presence of the mate bond she still felt burning in her chest.

The thought was painful enough that she changed the subject quickly. “How soon until I can move without problems?” she asked Talia.

Talia grunted, flicking a glare to Aria, who hid a smile behind her hand, “You need a few days of rest before you can go ruin all my hard work.”

Kali slipped the dagger back into the sheathe Ifrit had provided and pushed off the cot. The world shifted dangerously for a moment, but she gritted her teeth and rode through it. Juno pressed against her leg and Kali leaned against her gratefully. “I need some air,” she muttered to the others and stepped out into the sunlight.

The heat of it helped ease the stink of the pit that still lingered on her skin. The thought was enough to propel her forward towards the shoreline nearby, the ocean’s song like a beacon for home. She didn’t stop until her toes hit the line of foam that crested each waves. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like the jagged pieces of her soul were in danger of breaking loose.

Instinctively she turned toward the only other figure standing on the beach, heart lodging in her throat.

Rhone watched her silently, eyes shadowed despite the late afternoon light. His face looked like he’d aged decades since she’d last seen him, before...everything. The rough stubble of a beard made the lines of his chin chased away the memories of the clean cut princeling she’d teased and tempted. It was still odd to see the short hair that was a symbol of a lost future they’d shared in a small apartment above a simple woodshop.

The air between them felt heavy with the pain and broken promises.

Kali clutched at the anger that would keep her heart safe, but felt it slipping through her fingers at the sight of her name forming on his lips. She clutched at Juno’s collar, needing an anchor to keep from running to the male she’d wanted to be her mate so badly she’d sacrificed everything for.

And doomed them all.

His chest heaved in a deep breath and he turned, moving towards the last of the mercenaries and began speaking with him. She watched him for a long moment, trying to ignore the way her throat tightened with the need to call out to him and sighed. The ache in her chest spread deep into her bones, weighing her down to the earth.

Slowly, she walked deeper into the water, pulling herself onto one of the rock lining the shore and perching herself on it. Juno made a disgruntled sound and left her to flop into the sands nearby, eyes watchful. Kali let her bare feet dangle into the water and watched the sun begin to set on the distant horizon.

She wasn’t surprised to hear footsteps approach her new perch. It didn’t seem like anyone trusted her alone anymore.

Stryker settled onto the rock beside her and bumped his shoulder against hers affectionately. “Glad to see you up and about, thief.”

“Would have preferred it under better circumstances,” she muttered with a frown.

“Do you mean when you decided to sacrifice yourself to Delorea instead of just asking for help?”

The gentleness in his tone was a harsh contrast to the anger that burned against her mind. Kali frowned, glancing over at the tension in his jaw that didn’t quite match his bland expression. “It’s not like I planned to catch Thrace in the midst of killing his father,” she growled defensively.

“But you were planning to leave--without bothering with goodbyes or even telling us just what kind of a threat Delorea was.”

She sighed, feeling a little sheepish. “I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

Some of that crackling anger dissipated and he leaned back on his elbows against the rock behind him. For a long moment they fell into a comfortable silence only broken by the waves crashing against the rocks.

Summoning her courage, Kali asked, “So what happened?”

“Thrace killed Kallias and tried to kill you - from what I could piece together. He had his guards toss Rhone into the palace holding cells to wait for whatever show trial he thought would suit his needs.” 

The image of her princeling being ripped away from her made her chest throb, her fuzzy mind sluggishly conjuring images of that night. His wild eyes fixed on her and mouth forming words she couldn’t quite remember in the light of day. Silently, she cursed the drugs still in her system and refocused on the spymaster.

Stryker didn’t seem to notice her internal struggle and continued in a matter of fact tone. “I...recruited Aria to help get Rhone out and he took us Under the Mountain.”

Frustration at the reminder of Rhone’s decision to hand over the book chased away the lingering horrors of her captivity that Stryker had helpfully skipped over.

“Did you know what he planned?” she asked, voice sharp.

“No,” Stryker replied steadily, “but I had an idea of why they took you.”

“He’s an idiot,” Kali snarled, her fingers digging into the rock beneath her.

“He’s in love with you.” Surprised, she looked over at the spymaster to find him watching her with a mixture of sympathy and impatience. “I understand why you’re mad at him - hell, I’m not happy with him right now either - but he has done everything, everything he could do to make things right.”

“Amarantha is alive because of him,” she snapped, trying to remind herself exactly why she was so furious.

“Yes and so are you - I guess Rhone believed it was a good trade.”

Kali made a frustrated sound, unable to put into words just what Amarantha’s return meant to her.

Stryker sat back up and fixed a flat stare on her, reminding her of the way he’d looked the first time they’d met in the Warrens. Like a wicked king. “You need to decide if your anger and fear is worth being miserable for the rest of your life.”

She curled her knees to her chest, looping her arms around them and frowning at the dying sunset.

He pushed himself off the rock, ignoring the water seeping into his clothes and took a step in front of her so she was forced to meet his eyes. Like his expression, his voice was intense with the same emotions pushing against her ragged shields. “Listen, I’m not going to excuse what Rhone did Under the Mountain...but that male has lost his father, brother, and possibly his Court all to save you. He has sacrificed everything he had left to make sure you woke up - even if it meant damning him in the process.”

Without waiting for her to even begin to process that, Stryker waded through the waves and back to the shoreline towards the campfire Ifrit had cobbled together from driftwood. Kali watched him leave feeling breathless and raw despite the comforting presence of the sea around her. All she could think about was the look in Rhone’s eyes when she’d pushed him away the moment she realized what he’d done.

Rhone had…

Heart thundering, she slipped off the rock, feet finding their way through the sand without the same hesitation her mind seemed swamped in. She didn’t have to search for him, hidden against the rocks nearby like she knew he would be. Even after all she’d said, there was no part of her that doubted Rhone would stop watching over her while she healed.

Eyes the color of the sea behind her met hers and she felt the breath rip free from her on the wind that brushed the sweat dampened strand of hair away from her face. All the pain and panic that lingered like a poison since she woke up faded until all she could think about was how wrong it felt to be this far away from him. 

To know her mate was in pain because of her.

Without conscious decision, Kali began to move toward him, closing the distance with a blinding sort of need to touch him. To reassure herself that he was truly here with her.

Rhone stood, the ice she’d felt from him melting away with the heat in his eyes. Eyes that fixed on her for a breathless second before sliding over her shoulder to something behind her. 

Kai’s warning shout was muffled by the sound of hoofbeats racing up the shoreline behind her. Her hands wrapped around the hilt of her new knife and she turned to face the unexpected intruders with it outstretched before her. Rhone whistled to his wolves and they were at her side instantly, a living wall of ice and fur.

Instead of the dark red uniforms of Hybern, the riders wore the bright silver and blue armor of the Summer Court. Kali felt a new panic rise in her at the sight of the dark skin of her ancestors pulling up sharply at the edge of their camp and dismounting. The mercenaries around her kept their weapons tucked out of sight, not appearing surprised at the arrival of Tarquin’s forces. She frowned at the realization that only she and Rhone looked worried.

Had they sold her out?

A tall male strode ahead of the others, tugging off his helm to reveal a handsome face with closely cropped hair and the broad shoulders of a warrior. Blindly she reached out to hold on to Freya’s collar, too stunned to more than gape at the cousin she’d never met in person.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis the moment his clear blue eyes scanned the group and fell on her.

“Varian,” she whispered.


	50. Deleted Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, to celebrate fifty chapters of The Thief and the Soldier, I decided to give y'all some bonus content. This is an alternate POV we wrote out when TTTS was just getting fleshed out. If you remember the infamous bedroom scene (you know, with naked Rhone and some handcuffs), I published it in Kali's perspective because I thought her internal monologue/perspective added more to the story, but we also wrote the scene from the perspective of Rhone just for fun. 
> 
> So sit back, relax, and enjoy this slightly sexy version of events! And THANK YOU for reading this far into my, not so little, story. :)

Rhone was not a stranger to waking to a woman in his bed, nor to her rousing him from a dead sleep, however he was not used to being the one restrained in that situation. 

His thief was grinning with wicked triumph on her knees before him and he wasn’t sure if he was infuriated or completely aroused. Her eyes fell into a sweet smile that lit something dangerous within him. 

“Evening, princeling,” she purred. 

Rhone was well aware he was being played like a puppet, but he wasn’t sure what she was baiting him for with that gods awful nickname. “What the hell are you doing?” he growled out. 

She was pleased with his fury, her smile growing. “Our last conversation was...interrupted and I found I just couldn’t get you out of my mind,” she teased, running a finger down his bare chest.

He lunged for her, testing out both the familiar cuffs around his wrists and her fear of him. While he hadn’t expected her to flinch, he also hadn’t expected her to drop her gaze down his naked body with an appreciation that was very distracting. 

But then he froze, a cold fear dropping down his throat. “Where are Freja and Juno?” he bit out. “If you’ve hurt them…” The rage at the thought of his wolves, his girls, lying limp after he couldn’t protect them the way they’d spent their lives protecting him… 

It made him murderous and he thrashed against his cuffs once more. 

Kali waved a hand at him and his nostril twitched at her carelessness. “I’m not a monster, your highness. I didn’t hurt your little pets.” She moved back to lean against the headboard, presenting herself as blase, but he felt the nervous itch beneath her bravado. “They’re outside enjoying the treat I brought them.” 

Relief rained over his rage as he imagined them chowing down, Juno stealing half of Freja’s portion as usual. His eyes slid back to Kali’s with a distant curiosity. What would drive a thief wanted throughout the continent to break into the room of a High Lord’s son? And to have the forethought to bring a snack for his wolves… 

“What do you want?” he asked with the same tone he spoke to Thrace when he was playing his constant games. 

She leveled her gaze. “Only to talk, prince. I plan on releasing you before the night is over, unless,” she added with a hint of wickedness, “you beg me to stay.”

A cruel, tantalizing smile spread across his lips as he dragged his eyes down her body with the intent of making her uncomfortable. He would never admit just how tempting his thief’s figure really was. His appraisal ended back up at her face, her mouth. 

“If you want me so badly, let me out of these cuffs and I’ll show you just what it means to beg, thief.” 

She froze and victory flooded him. Kali licked her lips, slowly and then quickly as if she hadn’t realized she was doing it. She looked away and he was surprised by the rejection that panged in his chest. 

He needed to get a grip. 

“We need to discuss the spellbook.”

He steeled himself, remembering his role. He was charged with the responsibility of recovering this book and bringing this girl in to face the wrath of not only his court, but countless others. “If you think you can bargain your way out of being punished, you’re even more foolish than I thought you were.”

Her wicked smile returned and he wasn’t sure if he was glad to see it or not. “Being punished would require actually being caught, princeling. Something you and your soldiers have yet to manage.”

Rhone let out a low growl, his anger more for himself than her. She bit her lip, drawing his attention back to her mouth and thoughts of all the things she could do with it. 

She leaned closer to him and continued, “The spellbook contains magic that cannot fall into the wrong hands. I am not the first thief to make an attempt for it.”

That snapped him out of his feral trance. Thrace was in charge of palace security and he wasn’t surprised that he would keep such a secret from him normally, but when they’d just spoken of her theft earlier that day… He clenched his teeth. His brother was playing games with him again. 

Kali retreated from him and curled into a ball, a strange contrast to her vixen facade as her eyes faded into the distance beside him. It lasted only a second before she re-entered the room, but he saw the haunting behind that stare.

She took a deep breath and continued again, “I took the book to ensure that it would remain safe.”

Rhone scoffed. “You expect me to believe you stole the book to keep other thieves from stealing it?”

“Clearly your guards weren’t enough to prevent thieves from accessing even your most precious family heirlooms,” she drawled.

He debated where exactly she was going with this and what his role was supposed to be in the plan she was keeping from him. His gut told him she wasn’t lying, despite her bizarre methods at getting his attention. “So what do you want with me?” 

She bit her lip again and he pulled against his chains as if they’d loosened and he could actually act on his impulses. He tried to remind himself of their situation, but he couldn’t seem to override some animalistic part of himself that screamed she was the most attractive creature he’d ever seen, let alone sat in his bed with. 

“I want you to help me track down the people who are trying to take and use the spellbook.”

He faltered. Seeking justice was not something he’d expected from a thief and he wondered what this book really meant to her that she would put so much on the line coming here to him, telling him these things. 

“Why should I help you?” he asked. “How can I even know you’re telling the truth?”

“You saw the mercenaries in the marketplace,” Kali said. “You’re smart enough to figure out why they were there and it wasn’t to turn me in to the proper authorities. “

He remembered the men he’d killed alongside her in the streets of his city. He remembered the incident very clearly. “I should just turn you in myself,” he said, glancing back at his cuffs. 

“You could try,” she said with a smirk, the smooth caramel angles of her face glowing in the moonlight, “but you would never be able to recover the spellbook.” His eyes darted to her pitifully small bag and she laughed. “I’m not foolish enough to bring it with me. It’s in a safe location only I know.”

His interest was piqued and it might have been his still simmering ire toward his brother, but he was prepared to buy into the thief’s game before Thrace’s. He looked to the door, hoping Freja hadn’t gone looking for a guard - a habit of hers when she was separated from him for too long. Kali leaned forward then, the movement of her curved in the shadowed light snapping his attention back to her. 

“I can prove that someone is trying to find and use the spellbook,” she said.

Rhone raised a single brow, stuffing his amusement down his chest. “Oh?”

“Swear that you’ll give me one day to prove it. If I can’t convince you in that time, then…” she trailed off thoughtfully and the corner of his mouth pulled up while she was turned away, drifting back into her haunted place. “I’ll turn myself in to your guards.”

She was bizarre, but fascinating. He scanned her face once more, noting every curve and the small single freckle along her jaw. Who was this girl?

“And I’ll have to rely on your word that you’ll surrender after a day peacefully?” he said, drawing out each word in an unspoken dare. 

She did not disappoint. 

“Worried I’ll embarrass you again, princeling?”

Amusement fluttered through him. He was ready to play his thief’s game. More than that, he was ready to uncover the tapestry of masks she’d attempted to present to him tonight. Was she the warrior from this morning, shedding blood on the streets at his side? Or the seductress threatening to make him beg for another night with her? Or the lost, haunted girl that slipped through her gaze for only a moment?

“Fine,” he said, keeping himself terse, “but the deal is off if I even think you’re going to break your word.”

Her heavy smile called to his blood in a way he didn’t understand completely. “Such a low opinion you have of me,” she joked. 

“And,” he continued with a toss of his head his chains, “I want these cuffs off. Now.”

She seemed almost startled by his request, nodding slowly. “Of course,” she said reaching for his cuffs. 

The moment she bent her face to the lock a sinister grin split his face. If he hadn’t frightened her before, he was ready to now. Her delicate hand brushed against him and he let the electricity fuel him. Not a breath after the cuffs clicked open, he was on her in the throes of the thrill of pursuit. She struggled beneath him in a way he knew would earn him a growl from Juno, but he flipped her onto her back and pressed his body against her, only a thin sheet and her dress between her and his nakedness. 

She fought him, the feeling foreign beneath his touch, but he was not here to impose himself on her entirely, to rob her of anything like a wild animal - a beast worse than beasts. No, he was drawing on the heat between them, pulling her guard away by force - making her look at him with eyes in the present, not the past. Not in whatever memories she wrestled with. 

When she finally settled, she was furious. 

He smiled. “Now that I have your attention,” he purred, offering her the same sultry tone she’d granted him earlier as his gaze traveled down her form for the hundredth time that night, “understand that your freedom up to this point has only continued due to luck. I have no intention of letting you out of my sight.”

He was surprised she didn’t pull a weapon on him at that point. 

“Fine,” she bit out. 

Her defiance made him grin. Suddenly he was not dreading tomorrow as he had been earlier that day. Her fury settled, something different growing in the air between them and for the first time he considered that she might not be completely feigning her interest in him. His eyes flicked between her open stare and her full lips until he found himself dipping toward them, almost unconsciously, needing just a taste of her sin...

She looked away again and he felt a now familiar rejection. Maybe he’d read her wrong. 

He doubted it, but maybe. 

“We need to get moving,” she said, retreating. 

Rhone slowly slinked out of his bed, making no move to cover himself. She wasn’t the only one who could tease and taunt. He dragged on a pair of pants and his boots from the dresser drawer and considered how to handle this new development. Despite the fact that everything sane and rational in his mind told him to turn the girl over to Thrace’s guards as soon as her guard was down, there was a part of him that wanted to let this play out. Let himself find out if she was as delicious as she appeared.

No, he had no intention of letting her out of his sight without assauging his growing curiosity for this lovely thief.


	51. High Lord of Summer

“Mother above,” Varian breathed, eyes fixed on Kali from behind the immovable barrier that was Rhone. “How is this possible?”

She had the same question.

How had Varian know she existed, let alone that she was in Summer? What was he doing here? Numbly she stared at the male she’d only seen from a distance on one of the few trips she’d made into Adriata after...everything. He was taller up close and more muscular than she’d imagined - all those years protecting his Court displayed in each powerful line. 

The air around her had gone frigid, dropping enough to make each of her breaths plume around her like smoke, despite the warm sun above them. She let that ice seep into her body like a shielding layer that could keep away the terror and urge to run and hide instead of facing a world full of her nightmares. Tucking away her chaotic thoughts and emotions behind her mental shields, Kali forced herself to focus, to think, to do anything but remain a victim in this endless tide of battles.

“What are you doing here?” Rhône asked, voice cold as the winter wind. 

“I - “ Varian cut himself off, eyes still fixed on Kali, “Tarquin wanted me to investigate the rumors that - well, that she was alive.”

“What rumors?” Both men jumped at the sound of her voice, but she refused to cower behind Rhône like a weakling. 

The tortured look on Rhône’s face reappeared and she watched the muscles in his cheek flutter as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Finally he turned so his body blocked Varian’s line of sight and faced her, hands reaching then retreating to his sides. “Kali...” he let out a frustrated breath, scrubbing his hand through his short hair, “Damnit, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That you’re really Calypso, second child to the former High Lord of Summer, Nostrus.”

Kali blinked. 

Rhône seemed to take that as an invitation to explain himself so he rushed forward, “My father said that when Amarantha stopped the rebellion of your parents, she cut Aine’s unborn baby from her womb as part of the punishment. Everyone thought the baby was killed too.” He took a deep breath, eyes bright against the shadows on his face. “Until you.”

The beach seemed unnaturally quiet now, despite the crash of the waves nearby. She flicked a glance over his shoulder to where Varian - her cousin - stood watching their exchange. Ifrit and Kai, she noted, were slowly circling behind the Summer guards so that if it came to a fight, they would be pinned in by their slightly superior numbers. But that would be disastrous for all of them.

They already had enough enemies as it was - what they needed were allies. 

Returning her attention to Rhône, she narrowed her eyes at her mate. “So you just announced that fact while I was unconscious?”

“It was the only way to guarantee Summer guards wouldn’t return us to Winter and risk falling into the hands of Thrace’s guards,” He explained, then frowned, turning over her words and furious expression. “Wait - you knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Kali snarled, temper sparking like flames to tinder. “What do you think Amarantha tormented me with Under the Mountain?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

They were both snaring now, toe to toe in the sand while the others watched wide eyed. 

“You know why I wouldn’t want to announce myself to Tarquin - even if he did accept the fairly ridiculous claim that I’m his sibling,” she hissed, lowering her voice until only he could hear her. “You know what I am.”

Reminding Rhône of everything she’d said on the balcony with his father’s blood on her hand twisted like a knife in her gut. She used that pain to anchor herself to the present and to keep the urge to flee at bay. She wouldn’t make it far with all of them watching, but she would need to slip away soon. Before this got any harder. 

Cursing, Rhône opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again with a click of teeth. “We will discuss this later,” he growled and she bared her teeth at him. 

“I doubt that.” 

Stryker cleared his throat meaningfully, directing their attention back to their intruders. The spy master gave Varian a slight smile, “Well, you’ve seen her. Was there something else you needed?”

Varian scowled at him. “I’m ordered to bring her back to Adriata.”

“You aren’t taking her anywhere.” Rhône had spun to face the Summer soldiers and the expression on his face was enough to have them reaching for the swords tied to their waists. 

“Last I checked,” Kali said succinctly as she stepped out of Rhône’s shadow to face Varian, “you have no authority over me, High Lord. And wasn’t this what you wanted when you let your spymaster alert Tarquin to my presence.” Her glare now encompassed the rest of their motley group. Stryker has the grace to look a little guilty for the part he played in this while Aria only looked amused at the sight of the largely males flinching before the tiny thief’s wrath. 

She took a breath of warm summer air and faced Varian. “What happens if I don’t come with you?”

“Tarquin will want to see for himself if it’s true,” Varian said quickly, eyes still tracing over her features in disbelief. “He’d be here as quickly as he could muster a group of soldiers as an escort.”

Kali sighed, rubbing at her pounding temples. “If I go to him, will you guarantee my right to leave when I choose?”

“I cannot speak for my High Lord,” Varian said slowly, “but Tarquin would never force you to stay if it was not your wish.” His blue eyes seared into her and it took all her effort not to look away at the softness in his expression, “He would not miss this chance to meet you.”

She nodded and - ignoring the mass of anger and darker emotions at her back - turned to Aria. “Can I borrow one of your horses?”

The mercenary gave her a little bow, a smile playing a her lips. “Of course, your majesty.”

Kali snarled irritably at her, but before she could do more than take a step towards the horses, a hand closed around her arm. Forced to choose between stubbornly pulling him along or listening to Rhône’s explanations, she arched an eyebrow at him in silent question. 

“You don’t have to go, Kali,” Rhone said softly, eyes gentle. “I didn’t want to force you to do this - I just didn’t have another way to keep you safe.” His thumb brushed over her bicep in a quick caress that made her want to step closer to him, to hide behind him until the storm around them died.

She stared at him, feeling the press of all her years and aching body like a noose around her neck, slowly tightening. The anger that had kept her spine straight and the memory of everything that had gone wrong between them slowly drained away, leaving only a tiny, broken female in its wake.

“I don’t have a choice anymore,” she finally said and pulled her arm free from his grip. 

Before she lost her nerve, Kali pulled herself onto the saddled horse Kai brought her and pretended the effort hadn’t nearly ended with her collapse. The mare’s ears twisted curiously between her struggling rider and the new horses on the beach and whickered a greeting. “At least you’re having fun,” Kali muttered to her and watched Varian and his guards return to their mounts.

All around her she could feel the press of emotions against her ragged shields, proof that Talia had been right about her control slowly returning. Curiosity and bitter, bone-deep loneliness from Aria and mirrored by the spy master by her side. Enough that she wondered that the faint link that remained between them was more than just the old friendship she’d first assumed. Ifrit’s calm focus was balm against her frazzled mind. 

And Rhone was…

Gods, she couldn’t think about the maelstrom of energy and feeling behind her. Couldn’t think about the wild desperation in his eyes or how gaunt his face looked in the sunlight. 

She had to be strong, had to focus on the enemies in front of her instead of the mate she’d sacrificed everything for. Amarantha would grow in power and Kali knew better than anyone the horrors she would unleashed on Prythian. Delorea must have planned for this eventuality for years and every day would only give the former High Lady of Prythian time to gather more support, more forces under her banner. She needed to gather an army. She needed the most powerful fae to band together to face the nightmares Under the Mountain. 

But she was only a thief.

“Let’s move out,” Varian called to his soldiers and Kali didn’t bother to feign surprise when Rhone, Stryker, and their mercenaries fell into line behind them. Her cousin rode close to her side as if he was worried she’d disappear if he took his eyes off her. Maybe she would. 

Maybe she should.

Forcing her mind away from that thought, she focused on remaining upright in the saddle as they thundered across the beach toward the glittering city on the horizon. To distract herself, Kali focused on the terrain around her to orient herself. Shockingly, they were only a few miles from her tiny beach home. Mentally, she cataloged the supply cache she’d hidden near it and told herself that as soon as Tarquin threw her out, she could go there and find a way to kill Amarantha herself.

Her head was pounding dully by the time the sandy ground gave way to the paved streets of the outer city, matching the panicked beat of her heart. She could feel the weight of the guards and citizen’s curiosity on the strange company making their way through the streets toward the sprawling palace that dominated the cliffs near the beach. Tilting her head down so her face was partially covered by her wavy hair, Kali eyed the bright banners that were carefully strung across the balconies above them. Everywhere she looked, people were laughing and throwing flowers to one another to weave into their pale hair.

The Summer festival must be this week, she thought distantly, though she couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since the last time she’d bothered to look at a calendar. Glancing back, Kali watched Rhone eye the crowds around them curiously and she wondered if he’d ever gotten to visit Adriata during their major holiday. It’d been her favorite time to return and she made a point of visiting each year to watch Tarquin and his court lead the processions and merry making.

“The festival will take place tomorrow night,” Varian said helpfully to the group. “It’s our biggest celebration of the year.”

She couldn’t find enough breath in her lungs to respond after they turned down the main street and were faced with the massive white stone walls of the High Lord’s palace. Adriata’s walls still bore the scars of the failed assault by the King of Hybern, hidden in the painted chinks in the walls and fractured decorative sconces soaring proudly around the narrow battlement windows in a mimicry of the ocean waves. Varian called for them to dismount in front of the gates and handed the horses over to one of the sharply dressed pages waiting nearby.

They walked across the immaculately maintained courtyard, complete with flowering trees and elaborate fountains. Servants and courtiers in brightly colored tunics mixed with the jewel toned gauzy dresses of the ebony skinned females seated under the shade trees, laughing and talking among themselves. 

As they passed through the gates, Kali felt her tension rise. She counted at least twenty soldiers in the courtyard alone, some in uniform and others in the simple leisure clothes of their court. On the battlement walls, sharp eyed sentries watched the activities inside and outside of the smooth stone walls. Ahead of them, the pale stones of the main palace complex gleamed like opals in the sunlight, waiting for their approach.

It was getting more and more difficult to imagine slipping away when night fell.

It was because she was watching the walls that she noticed the flurry of motion before a tiny female leapt off an alcove in the battlement wall to land right in front of them, spooking the horses. Kali blinked as the creature straightened to reveal dark hair cut into a sharp cut and delicate features that seemed laughable against the terrifying energy pressing against her shields and gleaming in unnaturally silver eyes.

Monster, something primitive in her hissed, dangerous.

“Amren,” Varian said with a frown, “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

The creature - Amren - stared at Kali for a long moment before granting him a slight smile, “Rhysand sent me to investigate the odd rumors around Adriata.” 

Kali held her breath, trying to shrink back from those oddly colored eyes. Cold sweat broke out on her back as she realized that while she could feel the flutter of emotions and sensations all around her, where Amren stood was...nothing. As if a vacuum of empty space stood in the place of the other female.

What was she?

“As if you would listen to any of his orders if it didn’t suit you.”

Now Amren’s smile turned into a genuine grin, revealing the delicate fangs there. “Maybe I missed you,” she purred to the Summer general.

Varian snorted, but Kali watched his eyes soften slightly. Clearly there was more going on behind the scenes between the monster and Tarquin’s general. 

The rest of the group watched the exchange with curious expression as though they couldn’t see the beast in their midst. Warmth at her back made her jump when she realized Rhone had moved closer in reaction to her nerves.

She didn’t like to admit how much his nearness centered her.

“Kali,” Varian said with an elegant gesture for her to walk with him, “Tarquin is probably waiting. The rest of you can make yourselves comfortable in the rooms we’ve set aside for you.”

Immediately all the peace in her vanished and she leaned back until her shoulders brushed Rhone. His fingers brushed her side in a silent show of support and she knew, if she asked it, he would run with her now even if she was still furious with him. It gave her the strength to step forward and link her arm in her cousin’s.

“Let’s go,” she managed and let the gates to the palace swing closed behind her.

Varian took them down the long center hallway, ignoring the curious stares from the fae they passed. Whispered followed them like the buzzing of insects and she hunched her shoulders as though that could keep her from attracting attention. Amren seemed to enjoy the focus and preened, showing off a glittering necklace of massive blood rubies around her neck. If Kali wasn’t so terrified of the strange creature she decided she probably would like her.

Licking dry lips, she wished she had the ability to enjoy the cool water tones of the decorations and comfortable furnishings around her. This was one palace she’d never dared to sneak into - even during her more destructive and chaotic years. It was too much of a risk that someone might recognize her gifts or even worse, her face from Amarantha’s court.

Instead of leading her toward the glittering audience chamber where Tarquin met with his subjects on a weekly basis, Varian took her down a slightly smaller corridor painted in elaborate golden patterns against a pale blue wall. It was tempting to run her fingers against the delicate designs to see if it was real gold flake or paint that made them shimmer so.

“It’s gold,” Amren whispered and gave Kali a conspiratorial wink when she looked over in surprise.

If she wasn’t struggling not to throw up all over the polished floors, Kali would have smiled back.

As it was, she tightened her grip on Varian’s sleeve and tried to keep her breath steady and face passive when they finally stopped outside a set of ornate double door. Varian gave her hand a pat and extracted his arm from her grip to rap his knuckles against the wood. “Wait here,” he said quickly, “I’ll need to...let him know what to expect.”

Kali nodded, rubbing damp palms against her borrowed pants.

Amren leaned a shoulder against the wall and watched her...whatever Varian was disappear behind the doors with a quiet click. Then she arched an eyebrow at Kali, “Rhys will be annoyed to have missed all of the excitement.”

Excitement was an understatement for the news Kali and her group carried with them.

“Is he…well?” she managed, wondering how in the Mother’s name she’d gotten stuck making small talk with this strange dragon-like creature.

Amren snickered, but before she could respond they were distracted by the sound of footsteps hurrying down the hallway toward them and a familiar dark-skinned female coming into view. Kali felt what was left of her stomach roil at the sight of yet another face that haunted her like a ghost of a life she’d never had.

Cresseida. 

Her cousin’s beautiful features were twisted in a mixture of excitement and disbelief as she made her way towards them. A dress the color of seafoam clung to her curves with a lover’s touch and the high slit on one side exposed the strong column of her thigh as she moved. Amren took a subtle step closer to Kali’s side and the thief tried not to think about the knife tucked into the waistband of her pants at the sight of the Princess of Summer.

Cresseida’s regal bearing represented everything Kali would have been if she’d been born Calypso instead of Amarantha’s pet. Every story Kali had gathered and cherished about her family told her this female would be the most difficult to impress or convince that what she said was true. 

“I don’t believe it,” Cresseida breathed as she came to a stop in front of them. Kali smiled weakly, trying to think of what you should say to your long lost family member. Before she could, her cousin took a step closer, one hand outstretched like she would touch Kali’s face. “It’s impossible,” she whispered.

“Reality often contains countless impossibilities,” Amren mused, watching the exchange with a hooded expression.

Her cousin shifted her attention to the other female like she’d just realized she was there. “What do you know of this, dragon creature?”

Kali hoped that was an endearment - she had no intention of trying to stop whatever horrors lurked beneath Amren’s skin to try to save her cousin.

“My High Lord sent me here to give his testimony that Kali is truly Calypso,” Amren said coolly and both of them stared at her in shock. “He knows firsthand what happened Under the Mountain in Amarantha’s private life.”

What little color remained in Kali’s skin fled in the wake of this news. Her fingers twisted in her shirt and she wished desperately that she had the ability to disappear instead of feeling the wash of surprise, disbelief, and horror press against her mind while Cresseida processed Amren’s words.

Before Cresseida could speak, the doors beside them opened and Varian stepped out, barely glancing at his cousin before gesturing for Kali to come forward. 

The walls around her felt like they were pressing in, taking her oxygen with it. What would she do if Tarquin rejected her? Would it be worse if he believed that she was his long lost sister? It wouldn’t be long until he began to put together the broken pieces of her past to uncover the truth of her.

A gentle hand on her arm made her look down into the quicksilver eyes of Rhysand’s second. “You’ll be fine,” Amren said smoothly, “Tarquin is no monster.”

But she was.

Quietly, Kali stepped forward past the silent females and Varian’s almost protective figure. She thought he would follow her into the room beyond but he only closed the door behind her, leaving her to her fate. Almost immediately she could her the rumble of raised voices through the wooden barrier. 

The sound of a jagged breath, harsh against the relative quiet of the room made her heart pound harder. A wild bird struggling to free itself against the cage of her ribs.

Breathless, heart pounding, Kali let her eyes slowly move over the mosaic patterns on the floor, past the simple chairs scattered around the room, to the male standing outlined against the harsh light of day shining through the large bay windows lining the room.

Tarquin’s eyes were wide and pale against the mahogany of his skin and Kali stared at her brother, only feet away from her, for the first time in her life. His mouth opened with a hoarse sound as his eyes roamed over her face, racing the stubborn line of her jaw and the storm grey of her eyes - a darker version of his own.

“Calypso.”


	52. Confessions

Words fell like stones from her lips, dragging down the corners of his lips until they were thin lines of fury and tension. 

Stones that built walls between them, mortared by the life of lies she’d led.

Kali tried not to think about the press of Tarquin’s anger -- like the Summer sun blazing against raw skin -- or the way he’d stopped pretending to eat the snacks Cresseida had brought in favor of leaning back in his chair to watch her with hooded eyes. It reminded her of the way Juno and Freya had watched her the first day she’d walked at Rhone’s side. She wished they were with her now -- if for nothing else than a shield to hide behind.

Instead, she lay every one of her sins and truths at the feet of her brother. Hoping that he’d be willing to listen long enough to understand that there was a greater monster in their midst now.

“So you worked for Amarantha? You helped her torture her enemies and hunt down the rebels?” His voice was a whip, jerking her out of the rhythm of her story telling.

“Yes.” No excuses. Not for him.

“How long?”

“Until I stopped.” Until Amarantha asked her to infiltrate a new rebellion led by a young High Lord with eyes the color of a summer sky or the ocean’s shining depths.

Until Amarantha forced her to choose which side she would die for.

None of her inner thoughts showed on her carefully expressionless face. She’d known what she’d risked the moment she allowed Tarquin to disappear the night before Amarantha dragged her to the whipping post. She would not let him carry the guilt of her punishment. 

Tarquin frowned at her, letting out a frustrated breath at her evasive answer. “Then what?”

This, at least, she could be glad he hadn’t been able to witness. “Amarantha had me punished for my disobedience and locked me somewhere to rot for the rest of my immortality.”

“But you escaped?”

Kali nodded jerkily, fingers playing at the frayed knees of her borrowed pants. The grey fabric was smooth and soft from long use and countless washes, tired from a life too long. 

Just like her.

Tarquin’s voice was as rough as the waves against the rocky coast, “And became a thief.”

Here, at least, she had some pride. Enough that her chin lifted with a little of the challenge necessary to scale walls and sneak into fortresses to search for treasures that weren’t meant to exist. 

“I spent years tracking down every piece of Amarantha’s magic in the Courts of Prythian,” she said quickly, “You can ask the High Lords if you don’t believe me, but all I ever took were pieces of the court she created Under the Mountain. Then I destroyed them.”

All of them save one.

“I don’t understand -- why didn’t you just return to Summer? Or tell me who you really were?” The words were little more than a growl ripped free from a chest heaving with an emotion that she was afraid to identify. 

She swallowed hard, retreating from the blue fire in his eyes to look down at her scarred hands. “When I crawled out of Amarantha’s pit, I wasn’t…” It took a moment for her to find the words. “I wasn’t able to think past the pain and panic that I was running from. I hid for months, convinced she was still out there. That she’d send her monsters to find me.”

Tarquin barely breathed, afraid to interrupt the words that took all her strength to give.

“It took weeks before I could remember or think enough to find a town and find out everything that had happened Under the Mountain. I came to Adriata that night.” The words were too small, too simple to describe the stumbling, headlong rush to get back to the home she’d never seen. The family who thought she was dead.

When she fell silent, Tarquin leaned forward again. “So why is this the first time I’ve ever seen you?”

Kali gave him a twisted smile. “I came on the night they officially declared you the new High Lord of the Summer Court. With Amarantha dead, all of the magic she’d stolen was back in the land and I made my way into the city using the light from the bonfires lit all along the beaches and at the center of each street.” Tears were running down her face again and she brushed them away in a rough gesture. “I watched them give you the crown that was your birthright with Varian and Cresseida at your side.”

“Did you begrudge them that place?” he asked sharply and she blinked.

“Of course not.”

“So what precisely kept you from coming to me?” he hissed.

Her own temper flared to life, giving her the strength to stand down the increasing fury of a High Lord. “I would have been a liability to you at a time when your people needed strength, solidarity.”

In a burst of barely leashed power, he stood, pacing away from her toward the painting of the family that had been murdered by Amarantha. She knew this would be her only opportunity to explain that everything she’d done, every decision she’d made had been for him. That she was willing to shoulder his hate and fury if it meant he would live to hold it.

Licking her dry lips, she tried again, to explain. To make him understand. “They were already worried that you wouldn’t be able to lead as well as your father. I heard the nobles bickering and arguing over whether they would be able to use you or your position to your benefit. Varian and Cresseida were the best ones to keep you safe from that.”

“How could you know that?” Tarquin roared, turning back to face her. “How could you possibly justify making me think I was alone -- that I was the last of our line?”

Kali clenched her hands so hard she felt blood pool where her nails cut into her palms. “I knew what they would think. I --”

“And what would they think?” He stormed toward her in a dizzying rush of power, but she stood her ground until she was forced to look up to keep eye contact. “Why should I give a damn about what anyone thinks?”

“Because I know what I am.”

A derisive snort. “And what are you?”

“A monster.” The words hung between them for a long moment and she watched Tarquin suck in a shaky breath of air, running his fingers through the bright white of his hair. Kali forced herself to continue even though everything in her told her to run. To run until this was just another painful memory. “Even if our mother was an empath, even if she was a smuggler, Aine never commited half the sins I did before my sixteenth year. I used her gifts to cause pain and suffering and no amount of good I’ll do will ever take that away.”

The anger that had been burning holes into her shields was banked so quickly she stumbled, gripping the arm of her chair to steady her. Tarquin’s hands fell to his sides as though without all the furious emotions rippling through him he was hollow.

“So why did you come here?”

“Because she’s back.” His eyes went wide and she felt the disbelief before she continued, “One of Amarantha’s follower managed to get their hands on her spellbook and bring her back from the dead.”

“How is that possible?” Tarquin breathed, looking more ancient than she’d ever seen him. “I thought you stole the book.”

For the first time, Kali hesitated. Here was where she must be careful. Despite the anger that still simmered through her at the bargain Rhone made with Delorea, she wasn’t willing to let him fall for this.

“Delorea got the book from me and used it to force Rhone into helping her raise Amarantha from the dead. Rhone had no idea what was happening until it was already too late and I was...too wounded to warn him.” The excuse was weak, but it was all she had in her.

Tarquin was pacing again and she watched his movement warily, unsure what to expect when she’d laid bare every dark deed she could remember. Her head pounded with exhaustion and it was an effort not to sink back into the comfortable cushions of the chair behind her. But she wanted to be on her feet if he lashed out or sent her away.

Finally she could take no more of his silence and spoke quickly, “I understand if you don’t want to see me again now that you know...everything. But I came to ask you to help me put her back in the ground for good -- before she can raise an army.”

He looked back at her without speaking for so long that she wondered if she should be prepared for an attack. If Amarantha’s reawakening was the final straw in the tentative truce they had.

“I don’t…” Sighing, he glanced at the portrait of the smiling family before looking back at her. “This will take some time to wrap my head around.”

Kali nodded warily.

Tarquin scrubbed a hand over his face and took a breath. “If Amarantha is alive, then it is to the benefit of all of Prythian to rise against her. I’ll send messengers out to the other courts and see if they are willing to send soldiers to the Middle.” Something shifted in his stance, his face, and the male standing in front of her seemed more like the brother she’d imagined when she’d been a child. “It will take some time to get a response, so until then, you and your...friends are welcome to stay in the palace.”

She blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to, you know,” she said slowly, “I know how furious you are with me.”

Tarquin gave a faint smile at the reminder of her abilities. “I need some time.”

She nodded, once, twice, then moved toward the door. When her fingers touched the knob, she found the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush of fleeting courage. “You are everything I imagined you to be, Tarquin. Your parents would have been proud of you.” His parents, not hers. Hers were merely ghosts of a brighter past that continued to haunt her. “It was me that failed them.”

Before he could respond, Kali slipped out the door and let it swing shut with a final click.


	53. I'll Watch Over You

Watching Kali walk through the doors of the palace to face her brother and the cost of her safety was a new kind of torture. Juno and Freya whined anxiously, held in place only by the command he’d whispered. The rest of their strange group were uncharacteristically silent and Rhone wondered if that meant they were worried for her too.

 

Somehow his little thief was always forced to face foes that would make seasoned warriors think twice. His jaw clenched when he realized that she didn’t even have shoes to protect her feet from the heat of the sun streaked ground.

 

Worse still, this time she went into danger because of his choices. 

 

Grinding his teeth, Rhone tried to remind himself that the decision to tell others Kali’s true identity had given them the time they needed to save her. Still, it was taking all his strength to keep from throwing Kali over his shoulder and hiding her away in a safe place. Somewhere he could beg her to forgive him for everything. Somewhere he could explain...everything.

 

Stryker took a step closer, bumping Rhone’s shoulder in an comforting gesture. “That’s Amren,” he said with a nod to the short, strange looking female on Kali’s left, “Rhysand’s second.”

 

Rhone frowned. “What is she doing here?”

 

“She’s in some sort of relationship with Tarquin’s general, Varian, but I’m sure Rhysand must have heard something about Kali’s secrets getting out. Azriel is a little too good at finding secrets like that.”

 

Rhone considered the short female with more interest. An ally, at least, might protect Kali if things went wrong in there. It would have to do, for now.

 

“I need a drink,” Talia grumbled, looking annoyed at the looks their group was beginning to attract. Even with a few days to rest on the beach, they were all a little too bedraggled to pass as the cheerful groups of Summer revelers.

 

“I second that,” Aria said, but before she could take more than a few steps back towards the busy city behind them before she was intercepted by one of the sentries from the wall.

 

“Varian has ordered me to escort you to your quarters in the palace,” he said with a slight bow. The politeness in his tone contrasted with the small contingent of guards that now stood around them and the new tension they brought.

 

Stryker made a sudden gesture and Rhône realized the spymaster had reached to grab Aria’s hand before she could pull the blade in her hand free from its sheath. The others shifted with nervous energy, trying to decide if they should fight their way out or wait. Ifrit’s wings flared wide, ready to fight while Kai casually slipped back to flank Aria’s other side.

 

His mate would be in danger if they killed Tarquin’s soldiers and it would ruin her chances of reuniting with what was left of her family, he realized. The High Lords of Summer were infamous for their grudges against those who crossed them and they already had enough enemies. Not to mention it would ruin Kali’s chances of reuniting with her family.

 

So Rhône stepped forward with a stiff smile, blocking the rest of the group’s moves toward their weapons. “Lead the way.”

 

Stryker was whispering quickly to Aria, voice too low to make out even with their advanced hearing, hands tight around her forearms. Finally the dark haired female pulled herself free from his hold and nodded to her group before giving the sentry a lazy smile that did nothing to erase the sparks in her eyes. 

 

Clearly the mercenary was not fond of being under house arrest.

 

_____________________________________________________________________

 

Rhone was beginning to wonder if war would break out before they found out how Kali’s meeting with Tarquin had gone. As soon as they’d entered the comfortable suite of rooms they guards ushered them into, Aria had whirled on Stryker.

 

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she snarled, slamming her palms into his chest hard enough that he slammed bodily into the wall. “We aren’t a team. That we helped you in the first place was a greater gift than you deserved and the moment we decide to leave, we will leave.”

 

Stryker hissed out a furious breath and Ifrit casually caught a vase that was disrupted by the sudden movement. “I was trying to keep you alive, you irrational creature!” he snapped, standing upright with a stiff movement. 

 

“I don’t need you to keep me alive!”

 

“So you’re angry that I tried to help you?” Stryker said with narrowed eyes and Rhone wondered if he’d ever seen the spymaster so flustered.

 

“I’m furious for a number of reasons, but we’ll start with the absolute nerve you must have for trying to stop me from doing anything I want to do,” Aria growled, advancing on Stryker, “You gave up your right to that a long time ago so stop trying to make things complicated!”

 

“Enough!” Talia snapped, pushing between the two of them. “This isn’t the time for this.”

 

After a long moment, Aria finally looked away from Stryker’s furious gaze to the others standing quietly nearby. “Let’s get some sleep,” she finally muttered, “We leave at dawn.”

 

“Aria…” Stryker started, but she was already stalking into one of the unclaimed rooms and slamming the door behind her. He sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his hair before collapsing onto the couch nearby. Freya trotted to him and set her head on his knee, wagging her tail hopefully.

 

Ifrit and Talia exchanged a look before retreating into the room Aria had disappeared into, leaving Rhone and Kai to stand awkwardly around Stryker who began to dig through his bag until he found his flask. The spymaster took a long pull of whatever was inside before sitting back with a disgusted sigh.

 

“Well,” Kai said cheerfully, “that went well.”

 

 

Hours later, Rhone felt like he was going out of his mind. Stryker and Kai were loudly singing some sort of lewd drinking song and had moved on from the flask to a bottle of pale brown liquid they’d discovered inside one of the hutches. 

 

The guards outside refused to answer any of his questions about where Kali was or if she was still with Tarquin. He’d argued with them for so long that they’d finally locked the entrance to the rooms so he couldn’t attempt to sneak past them. Which left him pacing through the suite continuously as night fell and his companions became more and more drunk.

 

Juno and Freya had given up watching him and were now stretched out on the unclaimed bed in the adjoining room. Occasionally they looked up when one of the other males shouted or laughed loudly before grunting in disgust and flopping back down. 

 

A servant had come a few hours before with food and clothes to replace the travel worn Winter Court uniforms they were still in. The soft, flimsy feeling clothes they’d offered were a far cry from the fur lined leathers that were common in his Court. He’d grabbed the least...colorful pants and shirt he could, but the pale green shirt showed far more skin than he was comfortable with. 

 

Now he was trapped in these godsforsaken room with a bunch of drunk idiots wearing borrowed clothes and no way to check on his mate. Occasionally he could get hints of emotion from the mate bond. Flashes of misery and longing -- even a bright happiness that disappeared under a wave of shame. It was enough to make him consider ripping through the door and taking on the guards with his bare hands.

 

How did Kali survive with this emotional overload every day?

 

“There was an old farmer who lived on a rock. He sat in the meadow just shaking his….fist at the boys,” Kai and Stryker sang off key between long pauses where they tried to remember the lyrics.

 

“That’s it,” Rhone growled, stalking toward the open balcony. “I’ve had enough of this.”

 

“Where are you going?” Stryker slurred, trying and failing to get to his feet before collapsing back into the cushions.

 

“I’m going to get Kali,” Rhone snapped. He eyed the side of the building to try to plot out his ascent. “I can’t listen to another stupid song.”

 

“You don’t even know where she is.”

 

That was true, but if the pull in his chest was any indication, he would find her. Even if it meant tearing this palace apart stone by stone.

 

Besides, it couldn’t be that difficult to climb down and find Kali. He’d seen her scale that building in Kharos and it hadn’t looked very difficult. Carefully, Rhone stepped onto the railing and steadied himself for a moment before jumping up to catch the lip of the balcony above. Juno whined worriedly by his feet, but he ignored her in favor of pulling himself up to the next level with a grunt. 

 

Voices inside the room warned him that this floor wasn’t empty so he was careful to stay in the shadows. The balcony to the right was quiet enough that he figured he could use it to slip into the inner hallways without alerting anyone. That meant moving across the narrow decorative lip to the next landing.

 

How had Kali made this seem so simple? He thought as he stepped onto the thin stone on his tiptoes, fingers searching for purchase against the smooth stone. Scaling a wall wasn’t how he planned to spend this night, but he was tired of waiting when Kali’s sadness was beating against his mind like stones. 

 

Twice his feet slipped on the moisture that had accumulated from the ocean nearby, but he managed to slip into the empty bedroom and into the torchlit halls. His pale skin and hair attracted more than a few looks from the few partiers he passed, but he hoped there were enough visitors to Adriata that they didn’t comment on it. 

 

So he followed the pull in his soul through the maze of hallways until he found a door with a single guard standing patiently outside. The sight created a mixture of frustration and relief. The only thing that kept him from being spotted was his quick dive into one of the door alcoves so he was out of his direct line of sight. He couldn’t attack the guard without ruining their chances of leaving Adriata alive and with his mate at his side. He had to find a way to pull the guard away from the door without raising an alarm.

 

“You!” The sharp female voice made Rhone and the guard jump as the short, strange female from before approached Kali’s room. Amren, his mind belatedly supplied. “Varian wants you in his office now.”

 

“But, ma’am, I --” he stuttered but she waved off his feeble objections. “Did I stutter? Move it,” she snapped.

 

Rhone actually felt bad for the male as he scuttled down the hallway with Amren on his heels. But he could have sworn that she winked down the hall towards his hiding place before continuing away.

 

What an odd creature.

 

Relief chased away his lingering curiousity for Rhysand’s second and he padded down the hall to Kali’s room, opening and closing the door silently behind him. Inside, the room was completely dark. Only the faint moonlight streaming in from the windows to hint at a comfortably furnished room similar to the suite they’d been given. No candles or fireplace to warm the space. If it weren’t for a soft sound that made his heart twist in his chest, Rhone would have thought it was empty. Instead, his feet moved unerringly over the plush carpet toward the massive bed against one wall.

 

His thief was crying. 

 

The sound was barely audible against the wind and ocean nearby, but he caught it like a knife to his chest. In the dim light, he could barely make out the tiny lump of misery curled in the center of the large bed. As though she were hiding from the empty space around her.

 

Without hesitating, Rhone sank one knee onto the mattress and curled one arm around her. Pulling her into the shelter of his body, until she was pressed tightly against his chest and he felt like he could breathe again. At first, she’d stiffened at the unexpected contact, but, after another near-silent sob wracked her tiny frame, Kali nestled closer to him and relaxed on a shaky breath. 

 

“I’m still mad at you, she hiccuped against his shirt and his arms tightened around her, chin settling on top of her head. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and settled back against the pillows, unwilling to let her go for even one moment.

 

“I know,” he murmured.

 

This was his punishment for the lies he’d told and the sacrifices he’d made to pull her out of Delorea’s clutches. He knew he would never be sorry for saving her. Just as he knew she would never forgive him for bringing Amarantha back just to rescue her. It would have to be enough to hold her, alive and healthy, in his arms and try to ease some of the pain he’d brought her.

 

His thumbs brushed away the wet trail of tears from her cheeks and he stretched out his long legs on the bed, drawing the covers more comfortably around her. “Get some sleep, thief,” he whispered quietly into the darkness, “I’ll watch over you tonight.”

 

Kali didn’t respond and Rhone listened to her breath slowly even out into the rhythm of sleep, feeling more at peace with his mate in his arms than he had in weeks.  
___________________________________________________________________________________

 

I hope you enjoyed this little bit of fluff after a long wait. It's been a busy couple of weeks so it was a struggle to get these chapters out in a timely manner -- hopefully there aren't too many errors in them. I didn't get to proof read as much as I usually do. I am VERY excited about my plans for the next chapter so stay tuned for more!

As always, thank you for continuing to read and review The Thief and the Soldier!


	54. The Princess and the Cook

The next morning the room was empty.

Kali’s hand fisted in the sheets where it reached for the warm body that must have slipped away before the first rays of dawn. With a sigh, she stared up at the delicate patterns in the ceiling overhead and felt her cheeks burn at the memory. How had he even found her? 

It should embarrass her how much comfort she’d found in the familiar strength of his arms around her, holding together her broken pieces. She should be furious with him still, but all she felt was the familiar ache in her chest that told her she was alone again.

Her fingers brushed against something that crinkled and she rolled on her stomach to drag the piece of paper closer. It looked like a page from one of the books in the small bookcase nearby, the title strange but the precise scrawl across the blank space beneath she could identify with her eyes closed.

Had to leave before the guards figured out where I was. I wanted to say goodbye, but you looked so peaceful I couldn’t stomach waking you. 

Here a few words were scribbled and crossed out until they were unledgible -- as though Rhone had changed his mind several times before simply writing:

I want to talk. Tonight.

Kali was distracted from the maelstrom of emotions those five words produced by a sharp knock on the door. She barely had enough time to stuff the note under her pillow and get to her feet before the door was thrown open to reveal her cousin in all her glory.

Cresseida looked her over for a long moment and Kali didn’t need to be an empath to read the grief and longing in her eyes. “Sorry,” she finally said, swallowing hard and waving a dismissive hand, “It’s still a shock to see you and realize you’re not Aine.”

Kali shifted nervously, uncertain how to handle her unexpected visitor. She’d expected many things this morning -- a firing squad, being tossed on her ass out of the palace, or another furious string of accusations from the brother she’d abandoned -- but not to see her cousin making an attempt to be friendly.

“Were...were you close?” she finally managed to ask, fumbling with the words.

Cresseida smiled faintly. “She practically raised me after my parents died in the great war. She was one of my best friends.”

Silence fell while Kali digested this news and the creeping sensation of jealousy that bloomed in her gut. Cresseida was everything Kali would have been if her parents had survived. If Amarantha hadn’t stolen her away from the family who loved her. She would have grown strong and beloved by her people, spoiled even by the open affection all around her.

She would have been good.

Now she was just a monster hiding behind a face that shouldn’t belong to her.

“I’m sorry,” Kali whispered.

“It’s hardly your fault that she was murdered,” Cresseida shrugged, taking another step inside so a group of servants could walk in carry trays of food. “I thought you might be hungry.”

They bustled into the room, efficiently setting up a breakfast spread of fruits and pastries that smelled good enough for her stomach to growl. But still she waited, watched for some sort of indication as to what would happen now. Was this an ambush or a cease fire?

“What is this?” she asked finally. 

“Breakfast,” Cresseida replied with an easy smile that faded into a slight pout when Kali pinned her with a look. “Fine. I wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Kali made a mocking sound, “About what you overheard yesterday?”

Cresseida didn’t bother to deny the accusation, just sat down at the table laid out for them on the terrace. After a beat, Kali walked out after her, flopping into the chair across from her cousin with a sigh. She watched her cousin begin to slather butter onto one of the muffins on her plate. Deciding to wait her out, Kali grabbed another muffin and, after a quick sniff for anything strange, took a bite. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten and it was an effort not to groan at the delicious flavor.

It hurt to think she’d lost all the weight she’d gained hidden away in Rhone’s apartment. Happy with the thought of her mate caring even that much for her.

“Did you know,” Cresseida finally said in a conversational tone, “that I was to be your godmother?”

Kali froze, surprised at the question, but Cresseida didn’t seem to expect an answer.

“I loved my aunt like a mother, like a sister even, and rejoiced with her when we found out she was pregnant with you. She knew Tarquin would be watched over by all of Summer, but she wanted to make sure her younger child wasn’t forgotten. So…she asked me.” Cresseida’s smile was stiff with ghosts of the past, but her eyes softened slightly at Kali’s frozen expression. “I always regretted that I wasn’t able to keep my promise.”

Kali wet her lips, the food suddenly tasting like ash in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, unable to find the words say. They felt like drops in an endless ocean of unspoken grief.

“That isn’t a sin you carry,” Cresseida said after a slight pause. Then she leveled her butter knife at Kali, “But I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive you for letting us think you were dead all these years.”

“I thought…” Kali pursed her lips, “I thought that it was better that way.”

“Better to think Tarquin was the last of his family? That Aine and Nostrus died alone in the hellhole, unable to protect what was most precious to them? That you died without ever understanding how loved you were?” The words were sharp now, furious even if it wasn’t directed completely at Kali.

Still, she flinched at the emotions there. It had been obvious to her when she climbed out of the pit that the Summer Court was better off without her. But...maybe she’d been wrong all those years ago.

“I didn’t want Tarquin to know the truth about what I’d done Under the Mountain,” Kali bit out. “I thought it was better to believe Calypso died before she became a monster.”

“You are Calypso,” Cresseida said instead, “whether you want to be or not.”

Abruptly Kali stood, nearly knocking over her chair in an effort to release some of the restless energy that pulsed beneath her skin. She paced across the terrace and looked out over the glittering city below. Its’ white stone seemed to tease her, as though she would stain them just with her presence. 

“I would give anything to be her,” she whispered to it, pressing the palm of one hand to her eyes to stop the burn of tears, “but I have more in common with Amarantha than that happy family in Tarquin’s library.”

Cresseida considered her before going back to her breakfast, voice dry. “I heard everything you told Tarquin yesterday -- about the people you tortured for her, the crimes you committed -- all of it. What I didn’t hear you explain was how you came to be thrown in the pit Under the Mountain or how you managed to win the loyalties of so many. Tarquin is, at this very moment, dealing with a number of representatives from Winter and Night and even those strange mercenaries you brought with you. Each demanding that he release you and hear you out.”

Kali turned in surprise and watched a smile flicker over Cresseida’s face. “You don’t need to tell us everything right away. We’ve waited this long for you, a little longer won’t kill us. And don’t worry about your brother,” she continued with a roll of her eyes that seemed jarring against the dainty way she held her glass, “He’ll come around as soon as he gets over his own guilt.”

Kali shook her head. “He has nothing to feel guilty for.”

“He was there when you were punished by her, you know,” Cresseida murmured, smile gone now. “He watched them do that to you without an ounce of remorse.”

Kali’s heart clenched at the thought and it took two steadying breaths before she could speak again. “I don’t blame him for that.”

“He blames himself.”

The agony in Tarquin’s eyes the night before suddenly made sickening sense and she wished she’d spared him from that piece of her past. Most of her memory of that night was so distorted by time and pain that she wasn’t sure she could remember the faces in that room. Maybe she’d tried to block them out on purpose.

“I didn’t come here to pile more guilt on your shoulders, “Cresseida said quickly.

Kali turned toward her. “Why did you come?”

“Tonight’s the Summer Solstice,” she replied with a friendly smile. “I thought you might like to explore the city and...I’d like to spend some time with you.” The admission made Kali’s heart twist and she was nodding before she considered the possible ramifications.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

Cresseida waved a dismissive hand before crossing the room to grab a large basket the servants had left behind. “Of course! You’ll find out soon enough that Tarquin isn’t a dictator and I know too many embarrassing stories for him to risk angering me.” She tossed the basket to Kali, “Here. Put this on.”

Inside was the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen. Her fingers traced the golden embroidery with breathless wonder. It spilled into her lap like the first rays of dawn, delicate and fragile in a way she could never be.

She frowned at it. “This is...for me?”

“Well you can’t wear that to the festival,” Cresseida sniffed with a pointed look at the ill fitting clothes Kali had borrowed back at the camp, then she hesitated, “It belonged to your mother -- I think she would have wanted you to have it.”

“How can you give this to me?” she said breathlessly. “I’m sure Tarquin --”

“Tarquin doesn’t typically wear dresses, I’ve found,” Cresseida teased before sobering, “If you’re going to stay here, you can’t hide from this part of your past. But it’s up to you.”

Her cousin was nearly to the door before Kali called after her, “Wait!” When she turned back to raise one delicate eyebrow in silent question, Kali gathered her courage. “The others...the ones that came with me to Adriata. Can you ask Tarquin to let them go? They haven’t done anything wrong, just saved me.”

Cresseida nodded. “Do you think they’ll leave you?”

“I don’t want them caught up in all this,” Kali shrugged. “They should leave while they have the chance.”

Without a word, Cresseida slipped out of the room with enough silence to put any thief to shame, leaving Kali alone with a dress that smelled like a stranger. Like home.

____________________________________________________

They didn’t end up going into the city. Cresseida noticed how tense and still Kali looked as the crowd, and their volatile emotions, closed in around them and abruptly suggested they remain on the palace ground. Turning her toward the verdant green gardens, heavy with fruit and flowers that scented the air with sweetness. Occasionally, flora would give way to ornate water features that flowed in unnatural patterns thanks to subtly placed mages nearby. 

It surprised Kali how easily she began to relax around her cousin. Cresseida was clever and funny in a sly way that surprised and delighted her. Though Kali got the feeling that she was a little spoiled, she didn’t begrudge her for the way the whole city seemed to light up around her.

Those same eyes trailed over to the stranger walking beside their princess in quiet curiosity. The dress helped, Kali had to admit. The rose gold overlay fit snugly down her torso to just below her hips where it fell in gauzy folds, offsetting the vase layer that matched her skin tone and made it appear as though she were wearing nothing else. Delicate embroidery feathered through her skirts with tiny clusters of raw gold and pearls. Though the neckline was high and even had cap sleeve to cover her shoulders, the back plunged low to expose the new skin of her back.

The feature felt like a slap in the face to the scars she’d carried for so long.

Male eyes lingered on that skin and the curves highlighted by the gown until she wished desperately for the simple shirts she’d grown used to wearing in Kharos. Anything to avoid the lecherous glances and knowing glances between each of the courtiers, ready to tear her apart or suck up to once they identified how she could be useful to them. A few drifted closer to try to identify who she was, but Cresseida sent them on their way with a few sharp words. 

“The cooks inform me that they need some help preparing for the feast tonight,” Cresseida said after speaking briefly with a breathless looking page, “Do you mind helping or would you rather go back to your rooms?”

“I’ll help.” Anything to put off waiting in her rooms for whatever conversation Rhone had planned for tonight.

Just the thought was enough to have anxiety knotting through her stomach and her mind reaching to brush against the fragile thread that seemed to pull her back toward the main palace. 

The princess led her down through the bustling underbelly of the palace with enough confidence that Kali felt sure that Cresseida enjoyed working down here. It was hot and humid from the stoves that seemed to be running around the clock and sweat gleamed on each of the harried looking faces they passed. The sound of banging pots and shouted orders was startling against the quiet, whispered conversations of the courtyard. 

A portly woman looked up when they stepped into the largest room in the kitchens and let out a burst of pleased laughter. “Couldn’t stay away, eh? Come to ruin those soft hands of yours, princess?”

“Even better -- I’ve brought help,” Cresseida beamed, thrusting Kali forward to face the formidable female.

The smile faded slightly into an expression Kali was becoming all too familiar with. Then she nodded resolutely and cocked one hand on her hip, “Do you know how to cook anything?”

“Not at all.”

“Can you wield a knife?”

Now it was Kali’s turn to grin, “Well enough”

The chef grunted and gestured to a massive pile of apples on one of the tables. “Looks like you’re on chopping duty then. Cresseida, show her where everything is.”

 

A few hours later, Kali was sure that she would never eat an apple again.

Her fingers were cramped and sore after so many slices and no amount of stretching seemed to help. But it was worth it to listen to the playful chatter of the kitchen staff and to bear their teasing remarks about the way she held her knife like a sword or how uneven her slices were. Like she was just some sheltered noblewoman instead of a wanted criminal.

Thankfully, Cresseida had taken pity on her after noticing her discomfort with the apples and pulled her to one of the other stations to show her how to make delicate looking fruit tarts.

It was a disaster.

No matter how hard she concentrated or how carefully she watched the others fold the dough and twist it into neat shapes, it always came out a lumpy mess. It seemed all her hands were useful for were picking locks and irritating princes.

“Don’t take it to heart,” Cresseida reassured, “My first tries looked worse.”

Kali smiled gratefully at her for a moment before returning her frown to the cooling rack of pastries on the table. Her pitiful attempts were all too obvious against the rows of neat little twists and hearts.

Cresseida wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze, “Come on, cousin. We need to freshen up before the festival begins.”

Kali looked over at the pastries she had helped Cresseida make in the kitchens. Before she could second guess herself or question why she’d done it, her fingers wrapped around the tiny, misshapen lump that was her first attempt. It was the work of a moment for her thief’s fingers to slip the dessert onto one of the napkins folded nearby and put it into her pocket as they made their way back into the cooler air of the upper floors.

The breeze felt heavenly against the bare skin of her back and neck and she was grateful from the rubber band Cresseida provided to tie the heavy mass of her hair up in a messy bun. A few stubborn curls pulled free from the coil and settled against her sweat slick skin. Pressing her hands against the tight muscles at the base of her spine, Kali arched her back and shoulders to ease some of the tension left behind from the hours of bending over the kitchen tables.

“You did well today,” Cresseida said casually and Kali felt a new tension bloom at the careful measure of her cousin’s voice. “If you wanted to stay, I think --”

“You know that that might not be an option.” The words burned like embers against her skin, scarring in places no one could see, but it was the truth.

The princess shrugged easily, expecting her resistance. “We’ll see. For now, you should go get ready for tonight and rest if you like.”

Kali watched her walk away and felt her stomach attempt a new series of flips at the thought of what tonight would bring. She slowly walked into her rooms, trying not to look at the pillow where Rhone’s note was still hidden and closed the door quietly.

Tonight, everything would change.


	55. Collar of Blood

The knock on the door was unexpected, but polite enough, as knocks go.

Kali crossed the room from where she’d been staring blankly at the seemingly endless rows of cosmetic powders and creams that Cresseida must have sent over for her use. They made the charcoal and ash concoctions she’d made in the back of taverns for midnight heists seem ridiculous in comparison.

“A minute!” she called to whoever it was and felt a burst of nervous anticipation.

Was Rhone early?

She wasn’t sure if his note meant that he would see her at the festival or if he would sneak back into her rooms again. Doubling back to the mirror, she smoothed a hand over her mother’s dress and tried to calm her nerves. This was a conversation that was long in coming and needed to be had. She couldn’t move forward without hearing his side of everything that had gone wrong in Kharos.

As much as she tried to avoid him or pretend she would be fine without him, Kali wasn’t sure if there would ever be a part of her that wasn’t waiting for Rhone to stay. To mean the promises he’d whispered to her so many nights ago.

Kali gave her reflection a small smile. Maybe this could work. Maybe they could start again.

Maybe she could be more than what she’d been.

The knock came again, more impatient this time and Kali’s smile died on another burst of nerves. “Coming!” she called and hurried to the door, swinging it open on an excited breath, “Rhone, I wasn’t expecting...Oh.” Her babbled greeting died at the sight of an unfamiliar male dressed in the pale blue uniform of the palace servants. “Hello. I’m sorry, I was expecting someone else.”

The servant smiled faintly and bowed. “Indeed, may I come in?”

She stepped back into the room to give the male enough room to step inside with his basket. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation at the food she could smell inside. Cresseida must have sent her some food to apologize for all the teasing in the kitchens, Kali thought with a smile.

“You can set it --” 

It was pure luck that she was turning towards the servant when he lunged for her. Pure surprise that had her stumbling back gracelessly and tripping over the unexpected skirts tangling around her ankles. And pure, fierce determination built scrabbling in inky darkness against all manner of monsters that had her grappling against his strength and the force of gravity to keep the knife in his hand from slicing into her throat.

They fell hard, bouncing against the edge of the bed to land with a thud on the delicate floor tiles. He grunted, pressing the full weight of his body against her hold until Kali was forced to roll to avoid the knife that slammed into the floor beside her head and cracking the tile. Before he could recover, she slammed the heel of her hand upwards, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. 

The assassin cursed and backhanded her hard enough to make her see stars. He used the moment to pry the knife free from the tile beside her. Kali lunged forward and sank her teeth into his unprotected arm, biting down until she tasted blood and he screeched in pain.

“Bitch!” he hissed. “Ripping you open will be my pleasure.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, tearing her away from his arm.

Kali spat out the piece of flesh she’d taken with her and gave him a gory smile. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

He grappled for her hands, using his size and weight to keep her pressed against the tile and limited in her defense. Straddling her chest, he laughed at her attempts to dislodge him. “Maybe I should have my fun with you before taking your heart to my Queen,” he crooned.

She froze, horror and understanding rolling over her like a tidal wave. 

His smile became cruel, “Amarantha sends her regards.”

Then his hands wrapped around her throat.

Kali choking, instinct warring with training when her lungs began to seize and black spots swam in her vision. Blood dripped from his nose to her cheek like war paint. Her hands fought to pry his fingers away from her neck, nails sinking deep, but he ignored her. That smile never faded and she stared into his dead eyes with a new kind of panic.

No.

This was not how she would die. Alone and finally allowing Amarantha to finish the job she’d started so long ago.

And Rhone…

Rhone would find her body here tonight when he…

The thought brought a new wash of fury driven power into her body. No. She refused to let their story end here. She refused.

Instead of batting at the male’s hands again, Kali threw one arm wide reaching deep for the last bit of cleverness in her body. Praying to whatever gods would listen to give her a bit of luck today. 

Then her fingertips brushed over a scarred piece of metal.

Without hesitation, she curled her fingers and slashed upward with the last of her strength. Felt the knife blade sink deep into flesh and drag across his unprotected neck. Felt the warm wash of blood move down her still-outstretched hand and seep into her dress and hair. Tasted his pain and confusion like a familiar wine through her open shields. Watched surprise replace cruel triumph on the assassin’s face before he toppled forward.

The happy anticipation that had colored her afternoon was now replaced with the cold stillness she needed to survive the kind of violence required to survive. She rolled to the left to avoid her would-be assassin’s limp body and stood quickly, nudging him with her foot so she could be sure he was dead or dying. His dark eyes glared up at her from the floor.

The blood streaming down his throat made it impossible for his words to be heard, but Kali understood them anyway.

Long live the Queen.

She waited until his chest was still and the light faded from his hate-filled eyes before turning away. The room was a mess of blood and the evidence of their impromptu battle. They’d knocked over one of the side tables and the broken pieces of the delicate vase that had adorned it crunched under the delicate fabric of her slippers. She was surprised that the sounds of their fighting hadn’t attracted any of the sharp eyed guards that roamed the hall, but supposed the assassin could have done something to distract them away. 

Her neck ached worse than the time she’d almost been hanged by a faulty guide rope she was using to scale a building and her hands were still shaking with the leftover adrenaline. Glancing down at the blade still clenched in her grip, she almost smiled at the sight of the dagger Ifrit had given her. A useful thing, that.

What little humor she possessed faded when she finally looked into the mirror.

Blood stained the beautiful silk and tulle of her mother’s gown, forever ruining the fragile beauty of the dress given to her as a symbol of the new life she could have in Adriata. The intricate beading was ripped off one shoulder and she could already feel the fabric beginning to stiffen as the blood cooled.

Kali blamed the adrenaline for the way her hands were still shaking when she carefully pulled the dress off and for the tears that dripped off her nose onto the floor. She was careful to place the ruined gown in the bathtub where it wouldn’t stain any of the furniture or tiles. Maybe they would be able to salvage a piece of her mother’s legacy.

It wasn’t until she was washing the last of the blood from her face and hands that the icy numbness that protected her was replaced with white hot fury. She stared at herself in the mirror, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the strange smoothness of her new skin. Stared at the bruises darkening around her neck like a noose. 

Like a collar.

Kali looked at the female she had become in the wake of Amarantha’s twisted love. Looked and considered the new risks she took each time she reclaimed each broken piece of herself. Met the grey eyes of her mother and knew that she couldn’t stay in this sheltered oasis waiting for the balance to be tipped in her favor.

She was no princess of Summer, raised to smile at adoring subjects or spend her days performing delicate pastimes meant to prepare her for catching the eye of some high ranking suitor. She knew now that she never would be that princess.

But she could still kill a queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooo Amarantha is in trouble. It's been too long since I've released the beast so to speak with Kali. Poor Rhone is going to have quite the surprise when he goes to meet with her tonight...
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing! Come find me on tumblr at AvoidingAverage and complain directly about my continued foiling of characters' reunions. :)


	56. A Frozen Sea

Rhone stared down at the body lying in a pool of blood with a mixture of alarm and vicious pride in his mate’s skill. His fierce little thief was no one’s victim, despite her past. He noted the ill fitting Summer livery that would have marked him as another servant in the confusing tangle of preparations taking place in the palace. Her scent was everywhere, distracting him and making the beast within his skin pace anxiously. 

Tarquin stood quietly speaking to a similarly dressed male, nodding once and giving him a clap on the shoulder before walking to where Stryker and Rhone were standing near the body. “He isn’t one of ours,” the High Lord said quietly and Rhone watched his mouth twist in a fierce scowl. “Must have slipped in with the other workers.”

Rhône grunted his agreement, breathing deep in an effort to identify whether any of the blood belonged to Kali. Her scent was everywhere, mingling with the sharp iron of what was left of her fight. 

Stryker nudged the body with his foot, none too gently. “I don’t see any identifying marks or evidence of what he was doing here.”

None of them looked towards the knife still trapped in the floor beside Kali’s bed. 

“It was Amarantha,” Rhone gritted out. His mind flashed to the unholy desire in Amarantha’s eyes when she saw Kali for the first time. “She wants her back.”

“I thought Amarantha was the one who tried to kill her,” Tarquin replied with a frown and enough guilt in his gaze that Rhône felt himself almost forgiving him for making Kali cry. Almost. 

“Kali is an empath and Amarantha is addicted to what Kali can give her.”

The memory of the last time he’d held Kali’s grieving body through the night gave weight to his theory. Her dreams had hidden the truth of what happened behind closed doors Under the Mountain and what the so-called Queen of Prythian had requested of his mate. Amarantha was no better than the addicts wasting away in the streets of every city, waiting for their next high. 

Tarquin and Stryker looked faintly ill at the suggestion of what would happen if Kali fell into Amarantha’s hands again and Rhone decided he’d had enough of talking. 

He would find her the way he had the night before, following the pulsing bleat of pain and fury out of Adriata towards the sea. Stryker didn’t bother to question him when he turned on his heel from her blood stained bedroom and sprinted toward the stables. Just ran beside him and helped him saddle the fastest and best rested horse they’d brought without a word.

“Rhone,” Stryker said abruptly, his hand on the bridle the only thing that kept the horse in place, “we can’t afford to have you disappear again.”

“I have to find her.”

“You’re the High Lord of Winter now,” His friend’s voice was brutally sharp as the winds off the frozen lakes, “You need to think about your Court too, not just your mate. Phinn is leading a delegation here tomorrow -- you need to be here for it.”

The horse shifted, reading the tension in its’ riders body and forcing Stryker to tighten his hold on the bridle. Rhone took a deep breath, hating the new responsibilities that hung around his neck like a noose. Stryker was right, damn him, he couldn’t keep ignoring the mess he’d left behind in the wake of Thrace and Delorea’s plot.

“Is my mother coming?” Rhone asked softly.

Stryker’s lips twisted in grief. “I don’t...I don’t know if she…”

He swallowed hard, unable to contemplate a world without his mother’s teasing humor and iron-hard will. Where his mother and father were both gone. “I’ll be back before sunset tomorrow,” he promised and had to force the next words out, “with or without her.”

Stryker nodded and released the horse, stepping back to let them pass.

Rhone could feel his friend’s gaze following him as he pushed the horse into a clattering jog through the crowded city streets toward the bustling city walls. Fae of every Court were milling around in excitement, alcohol and cheerful laughter turning into curses and grumbles when he bodily moved through their midst. He probably would have gotten into a scuffle were it not for Juno and Freya’s well-timed growls at anyone who started towards his mount.

Then they were out, cutting around the long line of revelers still waiting to get into Adriata and racing toward the sea. Ten miles from Adriata, she’d told him. Ten miles to the home she’d made for herself while she tried to heal the wounds left behind by that red-haired bitch.

Maybe I want you to find me, she whispered in a memory he held with the same protective ferocity of a child to their favorite toy.

He would always find her, Rhone wanted to promise back. Even if he was forced to crawl on hands and knees to the underworld itself, he would find her. It was as simple as breathing now. As complicated as the need to claim her, to complete their mate bond before she disappeared for good.

He was glad for it as they raced along the sands, Freya and Juno silver streaks in the moonlight. It hung like a cord between them. Pulling him along an unfamiliar coastline until he suddenly pulled back the reins, searching in the dark for the source of all his worrying.

Rhone tied his mount to a piece of driftwood just off the beach where it could graze on the salt grass poking out of the sandy soil. They both looked up in surprise at the whicker of greeting that led him to a makeshift paddock nearby, almost invisible against the dunes and scattering of scrub brush. Releasing his gelding to graze with the other mare, he gave a soft command to his wolves that had them flopping down nearby to keep watch.

The sight of the paddock and other horse eased some of the tension he hadn’t been aware he was carrying from his shoulders. If Kali had been healthy enough to steal a horse and care for it, it was safe to assume that the scuffle in her rooms hadn’t ended with any new injuries for her. He’d seen the kind of wicked fighting she was capable of in Kharos, but he hated the thought of her continuing to face these threats alone.

There weren’t any obvious lights on the beach that would mark her home against the darker shadows of night, but then, he didn’t expect anything less. Instead he was forced to cast about for a moment, searching and scenting for anything out of place.

It took him three passes before he found the false wall that hid the entrance of her tiny home. He’d expected her to build some sort of wooden or stone structure to call her own after living so long underground. Instead he followed the winding naturally occurring cave deeper into the cliffs that ringed the beach. His heart twisted for the grief stricken girl that must have taken shelter in the closest thing to home that she’d known. 

Her home was simple and he could read the messages hidden in the quiet structure. There was no attempt to decorate or make this anything more than a temporary shelter. One that she was ready to leave at any moment if danger threatened it. Rhone would bet money that there was a second entrance hidden in the rock face that doubled as an escape tunnel in a pinch. Only a few shells and candles were scattered around near the simple raised mattress that marked this as anything more than a naturally occuring cave.

His footsteps were silent on the stone path but she heard him anyway, was ready with the bloodied knife she must have used to defend herself in the palace. The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding rushed out of him in relief. Even seeing the body of her attacker, even knowing her skills firsthand, there was a vicious need to touch her to be sure she was really alright. 

Her eyes were dark and haunted and he watched a faint tremor shudder through her at the sight of him. Kali lowered the knife slowly, tucking it out of sight, but he understood the nightmares in her eyes. Had seen it in the faces of soldiers home from the war. Had experienced it himself after his first battle.

So he leaned a shoulder against the stone wall and crossed his arms over his broad chest in an approximation of nonchalance. She didn’t seem impressed.

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy making me chase after you,” Rhone said drolly, eyes scanning her body for any sign of injury. She was wearing the clothes she’d borrowed from one of the mercenaries again and he wished he’d thought to bring something else for her to wear. He missed the sight of her in his shirts, covering her in his scent. 

A hint of a smile caught the edge of her full lips, drawing his eyes there. “This is the first time you’ve actually caught me.”

He scowled dramatically, “I’ve caught you several times if memory serves...even tricked you into moving in with me.” As soon as the words were out, Rhône wished he could take them back to avoid the sight of her face twisting in pain. “That’s not what I—“

She waved off his explanations, looking tired. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

Kali stared at him and for the first time, he saw the age in her eyes, felt the terrible fury and exhaustion that kept her upright. It made him want to reach out for her, to ease the tension around her eyes and let her lean on him like she did before.

Her voice was raw silk and despair, “I don’t want to talk right now.” 

She turned her back on him to lift the lid on one of her trunks and dig through the contents and he felt a new panic. Surely Kali wasn’t planning to go alone to Amarantha’s court. Her hands were steady as she pulled out a few weapons as well as another set of lockpicks to slip into the pocket of her pants. No hesitation in her movements.

“Then listen,” Rhône replied quickly. There was a rustle of fabric that ended with a click of metal and she looked up in alarm when the metal closed with a soft snick. 

Wide grey eyes stared at the spelled cuffs that now linked him around the wooden support beam she’d placed at the entrance of her living quarters. Just like the first night he’d used them, that surprise quickly turned to fury.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“Forcing your hand,” he said a little smugly, then felt the flash of humor fade just as quickly. “I know you’re convinced that running off and leaving all of us behind is the right thing to do, but I don’t want to have to chase you.”

Hurt flashed through their bond and it was enough to make him regret his choice of words, but Kali was already stalking towards him. “All you’ve done is made it easier for me to leave.”

“Maybe,” he said with a soft look that made some of her bravado falter and crack, “If you choose to, I’ll stay until you come back.”

That stubborn chin tilted up in challenge. “And if I don’t come back?”

“Then you need to know I didn’t sleep with Delorea.”

Kali’s shoulders went tight and she turned away from him in a burst of nerves that was meant to stop the burst of possessive rage and grief like frost against his skin, slowly melting into a ray of hope like the blooming heat of day. “She told me --”

“She’s a liar.” He kept his eyes steady on her, wishing she could sense the truth in his words. “Thrace convinced me to court her before I even met her. Some kind of political arrangement he hoped would help Winter,” Rhone scowled, shoving a hand through his short hair, “I went along with it to keep my family happy, but I knew from the first day that I wanted nothing to do with her.”

“Then why did you say she was your mate?” Kali demanded.

“Because I thought she was. Everytime I went to tell her I wanted nothing more to do with her, she would make me feel…”

“Like you loved her.” The words were bitter and stung in their truth.

“Yes.”

“So why bother with me?”

Rhone scowled, trying not to jerk at the chains bind him so he could wipe away the ugliness in her expression. “I wanted you. I felt more for you the first night you broke into my rooms than I did in all the time I knew her. I love you.”

She was silent, staring down at the cuffs that kept him safely away from her.

“She manipulated me and used it to hurt you and I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you like that.” She finally turned back to look at him and he could sense how much strength it took not to run from him. Rhone chose his next words with care, “I will never forgive myself for hurting my mate.”

Everything went still except the endless crash of the waves on the shore.

“You--you never felt the bond --” Her voice was ragged and she swiped at a tear that leapt free from her lashes, “even after...everything. I kept waiting and waiting for you to see me. To look at me the way I looked at you.”

“I did,” he breathed, the ache in his chest a living thing, “I chose you, Kali. I chose you even after Delorea convinced me that she was my mate. I told her I didn’t want her, that I was in love with you.”

Kali stared at him, a frown breaking the beautiful lines of her face and that stubborn chin tilting upwards in challenge. “Then why was she there? Why did she say you were going to be married?”

“Because she manipulated me. She told me that the people in Hybern would kill her if her mate rejected her and I offered to let her stay in Winter for as long as she needed. I didn’t know anything about what she planned.”

She considered this then looked away. “But you still didn’t feel the bond.”

“I was an idiot,” he replied easily, “and you, you never told me --”

“I thought it was a mistake, some sort of new torture the fates designed for me,” Kali whispered and she was back to that broken thing he’d pulled free from Under the Mountain. “I thought I should be grateful for the unexpected taste of happiness I’d received and told myself I would say goodbye when you met your real mate.”

“You’re my mate, Kali. My only.”

“I’ve been around you for weeks now,“ she said tired, “I’ve held you and kissed you and slept in your bed, waiting for the moment when you would understand why I stayed. Why should I believe anything has changed?”

“I felt it.” The words were raw and grated like broken glass in his chest, “I saw you fall and suddenly all I could see and feel was this golden, beautiful thing between us. Like it was there all along and I was too stupid to see it. Too caught up to realize the gift that was in front of me all along.” Tears burned in his eyes, but he forced them away. Forced himself to give her the truth that she deserved after all the hell he’d put her through, “I saw you fall and thought that between one moment and the next, I’d lost everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all this chapter was so hard to write after so long in coming. I love them so much--hopefully you enjoyed it too!


	57. Chapter 55 posing as Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sexy Conclusion to the last chapter.

Kali felt her fragile hold on her emotions cracking and fraying with the fierce emotion in Rhône’s eyes. She clutched at her shields, convinced that if she let herself feel that storm she would would collapse. 

Rhône took her silence for dismissal and shifted anxiously, looking down at those stupid cuffs fiercely. “I know you hate me for giving the spellbook to Delorea,” he said softly, bitterly, “and for everything that followed, but I knew, from the moment that I found out you were alive, that I couldn’t survive watching you die again.”

“It wasn’t worth the cost.” Her words were flat. 

“It was worth every painful moment that followed. You were worth it, even if it means you won’t forgive me. I will never regret saving you.”

Her chest ached with the agony that was not touching him, not smoothing away the lines of deep sadness that bracketed his eyes. Her hands twitched with the need to unlocks those cuffs and hold him until the outside world didn’t matter anymore. She slipped them in her pockets to avoid it. 

“I’m going to kill her,” she promised softly. “Before she hurts anyone else.”

“I never expected anything else from you, little thief,” he smiled faintly, “I just don’t want you to do it alone.”

Kali tilted her head slightly, eyeing him. “And then what? Go back to Winter and tell them your mate is a thief that was trained by Amarantha herself to manipulate others. They’ll never accept that.”

“Then we’ll leave.”

The vehemence in his voice surprised her enough that she met the blue green of his eyes and felt herself falling forward. “I can’t let you do that.”

“If it comes down to living a life with the only female I’ve ever loved or suffering through the endless sufferings and responsibilities of being High Lord, the choice is clear,” Rhône said with a hint of a smile. “For what it’s worth, Winter would be lucky to call you High Lady.”

The thought was enough to conjure up images of a tiny, stubborn looking little boy with tawny skin and bright eyes running amok in the palace she’d spent so much time sneaking in and out of. It made her heart leap in her chest. Stop it, she told it sternly, we’re still mad at him.

But even she was beginning to notice her excuses were beginning to wear thin.

Rhone was never one to miss an opponent’s weakness and the smile he flashed at her had her lungs going sideways. She scowled at him for good measure and crossed her arms over her chest, watching his eyes dart down with the movement and felt her own wicked smirk bloom.

Slowly, she took a step towards him and watched his eyes widen with surprise. “Didn’t you promise to make me beg the last time we were in this position?” she asked with an innocent bat of her eyelashes.

He shifted uncomfortably, heat flaring between them. “I imagined this conversation going a little differently.”

Kali tilted her head in silent question. “So you want me to leave you there?”

“Gods, no,” he said in a rush and the hope in his eyes was enough to send her defenses tumbling down. Rhone swallowed, “I want to touch you. I -- I missed being able to touch you.”

“Maybe I like having you at my mercy.”

That devastating smile flashed again and his voice was positively indecent when he murmured, “Another time, I promise.”

Her hands were gentle when she pulled free her lockpicks and quickly went to work on the lock, keeping her head ducked down to avoid the look in his eyes. It did nothing to stop the rush that was feeling his breath stirring the tiny hairs at her hairline. Thankfully he didn’t comment on the way her hands trembled slightly at being this close to her mate or the way she instinctively leaned closer to him.

As soon as the cuffs were off, Rhone’s hands were cupping her cheeks and tunneling his fingers into her hair, forcing her to look up into eyes that were too bright, too fierce. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones while his eyes scanned her face with a hungry focus. Then he released a shuddering breath and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her with another deep breath. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered to her, “I’m so tired of finding you covered in blood.”

Kali’s lip trembled into a smile at the worry in his voice. “Too bad you’re stuck with me.”

“That is something I’ll never regret.”

Something in her chest thawed at the raw honesty in that statement and she pulled back slightly so she could look up at him. “You’re certain? It’s still not official...the mate bond, I mean.” It took all her strength to keep her tone carefully neutral.

Rhone scowled at her. “How many times do I have to follow you into certain death before you believe me?”

Kali swallowed, stepping out of the warmth of his arms to fumble in her pockets. Her cheeks warmed when she finally fished out the tiny, smushed mound wrapped in a simple white dishcloth. Rhone’s eyes flicked between her and the object in her hands before he arched his eyebrow curiously.

“I, um...I know there’s usually more fanfare, but,” she let out a shaky breath and slowly unwrapped the misshapen apple tart she’d stolen from the kitchens earlier that day. Rhone’s eyes went wide and she had to look away before she lost her nerve. “I know it’s not much, but I’ve never really cooked and this is the first thing I’ve ever made so --”

“You made this?” His voice cracked oddly with an emotion that washed over her shields like an ocean wave.

“Yes,” she whispered, feeling foolish. “You don’t have to -- I mean I know it’s not--”

“It’s perfect,” he breathed.

Before Kali could do more than blink at the intensity in his expression or the warm flush on her cheeks, Rhone snatched the feeble offering out of her hands. Then it was his turn to hide shaking hands as he carefully unwrapped the tart from its feeble wrapping. Miraculously there wasn’t any blood left behind by her fight with Amarantha’s assassin -- a small, devastating miracle.

Meeting her eyes with a crooked smile that made her heart lurch in her chest, Rhone took a bite. Wordlessly, he ate every flaky crumb of the pastry as though it were the tastiest thing he’d ever eaten. As though he was a starving man offered with the rarest delicacy in Prythian.

Then they were moving toward each other in a rush of wild joy and that had Kali laughing against his lips in the sheer, unexpected relief of knowing Rhone was hers. Hers. 

“My mate,” he growled against her lips and she was lost in the sweet wonder of this moment. “My only.”

She met him in the middle, hands hungry on his skin and mouth to steal his breath with the same ease in which she’d stolen his heart. Her hand found its way under his shirt to run over the planes of his back, raking her nails across warm skin. He groaned against her mouth and nipped at her bottom lip, licking away the sting. 

One of his arms wrapped around her legs, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist to avoid falling backwards with an undignified yip of surprise. With barely a pause in his assault on her senses, Rhone backed her up to the bed and tossed her onto the simple mattress, following her down to press the length of his body against hers and kiss her breathless.

Impatiently, Kali tugged at his shirt until he was forced to sit up to let her drag it over his head and expose a new expanse of skin. She kissed her way across his jaw and down the column of his neck before getting distracted by the sounds he made when she teased her teeth over the fluttering pulse there. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he growled and she gasped in surprise when his fingers clenched in the material of her shirt. There was a ripping sound and she leaned back to look down at the tattered remains of her top with raised eyebrows.

“You know those weren’t mine, right?”

“I’ll let you borrow one of mine,” he promised innocently. Rhone sounded entirely too pleased with that prospect for her to do anything but let out a breathy chuckle.

He took advantage of her distraction by following the line of her throat to tease his lips over the graceful curve of her collarbone, chasing goosebumps across her skin. It felt like she was drowning in her happiness, making her breathless and wild and unable to discern what emotions belonged to her anymore. His hands traced over the bare skin of her chest, following the map of scars rendered invisible by Talia’s healing.

“I missed you,” he whispered, lips feather light against her until she shifted in silent demand. Rhone ignored her in favor of dragging his mouth and lingering with teeth and tongue over the peak of her breast until she was gasping beneath him.

Mindlessly, Kali tunneled her fingers into his hair and tugging on the short strands and he braced one hand over her shoulder, pinning her in place while he drove her wild. “Rhone,” she keened when he sucked hard on the sensitive skin just above the waist of her pants before licking away the sting.

His grin was wild and so beautiful she lost her breath again. Mind going blank with the double assault of both their pleasures on her senses.

Rhone took advantage of her distraction and leaned away from her long enough to yank her pants away and hurl them against the wall like they’d offended him in some way. For several seconds he stared at her with a hunger so intense, she blushed. “So damned beautiful, little thief,” he purred.

Then he pressed one large hand against her stomach, pinning her to the bed so he could drop his head and--

Kali’s back arched with a strangled noise and she felt Rhone smile against her core. His tongue brushed against the cluster of nerves at her center and she threw her hand out blindly to clutch at the sheets beside her. Her mouth seemed unable to do more than release wordless sounds of pleasure so she fisted her hand in her mouth to muffle the noise.

Rhone took that as a challenge.

His fingers speared into her and she felt herself bowing up off the bed as her climax splintered through her. He kept teasing, moving against her until he’d wrung every drop of pleasure out of her body and she was left in a quivering heap on the bed. Slowly, Rhone leaned over her and kissed gently up her body, breath shivering against overheated skin.

Kali focused on gathering up the broken fragments of her mind and calming her breathing.

Her mate’s smile was positively wicked. “I intend to hear you come apart under me like that at least once a day from now on.”

She laughed, so full of joy and light and love she could barely think. Before he could guess what she intended, Kali lunged forward in a move she’d learned in a back alley brawl that left her straddling his waist with her knees keeping his arms in place and his eyes going dark with desire.

Leaning forward, she kissed across his jaw to purr into his ear, “My turn.” Rhone groaned when she pulled his earlobe into her mouth and teased it with the tip of her canine. 

Slowly, she ran her hands down his chest and scooted her way down his body until she could wrap her fingers around the hard length of him. She kept her touch gentle, enjoying the way his body responded to her. Each time he began to reach for her she gave him a look and stopped her teasing explorations until he scowled and threw one muscular arm over his eyes.

“If you expect me to beg--” Whatever teasing declaration he intended, it was cut off on a jagged shout when Kali dropped her mouth onto him.

Smiling at the way his fingers were clutching convulsively on the sheets, she licked a stripe up the length of him before grazing him gently with her teeth. He was cursing under his breath now, jaw tight to keep more sounds from escaping. 

Clearly Rhone wasn’t the only one who enjoy a challenge.

Then his legs jerked her upwards, startling her from her single minded focus on Rhone’s body and landing her draped across his stomach. His hands grabbed on her hips for a moment before he surged into her, impaling her in one stroke. 

They both gasped and Kali reached for him blindly, finding her balance in the fierce pleasure in his eyes. He slammed into her until her body seized and she cried out as her orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave. Rhone watched her shiver her pleasure above him and followed her over the edge, gasping her name like a prayer.

She collapsed over his chest, too tired to do anything else and felt his hand sweep over her back in a gentle caress. Smiling like a fool against his chest, she whispered, “We have got to do that again.”

Rhone’s chest vibrated with something close to a purr. “As if you had any choice, mate of mine.”

Kali tilted her head up so she could smile at Rhone and let the glorious light of their mate bond shine clear and bright between them, chasing away the shadows of the past.

“Deal.”


	58. A New Dawn

There were very few moments in her long life where waking up to sensation of bare skin against hers and lips tracing the curve of one shoulder wouldn’t send her into a panic. But even her mind wasn’t broken enough to not recognize the scent of cedar and snow or the press of smooth muscle that she’d spent the better part of the night learning. 

Mate, her soul sang. My mate.

Kali smiled into the blanket Rhone must have rescued from the floor after she’d practically collapsed in a heap of sated muscles and kiss-bruised skin. If she weren’t laying next to a male who would never let her live it down, she might be tempted to purr. 

“Good morning, mate of mine.” 

Rhone sounded entirely too pleased with himself for her to be certain she’d completely avoided any strange sounds so she rolled to face him. The sight of his sleep rumpled hair and the mark she’d left on the strong column of his throat made her mouth go dry. 

A lesser female might be embarrassed by the primitive heat such a sight stirred in her, but Kali had never claimed to be anything less. 

Her smirk was predatory enough that she watched his pupils dilate to swallow the blue-green of his irises. “Good morning, princeling.”

He scowled a little at the familiar nickname. “I’m hardly a prince.”

Kali hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward to nibble on the delicate tip of his ear. His breathing hitched and his fingers clenched against the skin of her waist. 

“Technically the Winter Court doesn’t have princes,” he continued a little breathlessly.

“I guess I’ll have to start sleeping with a High Lord instead,” she teased and gasped when he rolled her on top of him, settling her firmly against the evidence of his arousal. Rhone leaned up on his elbows to press a kiss to her lips that left her panting and running her hands over the planes of his chest. Her mate kissed like he fought—all wicked strategy and power. 

“Only if that High Lord is me,” he growled against her lips and she had to blink twice before she remembered what they were talking about. His rumbling laugh against her neck hinted that she’d taken too long to respond, but she was too happy to be annoyed. 

“Only you,” she agreed and was rewarded with a long line of kisses that drifted down her chest. 

They were so distracted with each other that it wasn’t until there was a throat clearing behind them that they realized someone else had entered Kali’s home. 

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Stryker drawled, “seeing Kali half naked again is enough to make up for being up at this gods-awful hour.”

Kali was abruptly tossed onto the bed in a sprawl of bare limbs as Rhone pounced on Stryker with a snarl fierce enough to make her flinch. The two males hit the ground and rolled out the door in a tangle of clenched fists and vicious kicks. Before Rhone could get a grip on the other male, Stryker was on his feet and dashing towards the exit with her mate hard on his heels. She was glad to see Rhone must have pulled on his pants when he recovered their blankets, but it was still distracting to see all that skin on display. 

She sat up slowly, frowning towards the fight she could still hear outside. She was reasonably sure that Rhone wouldn’t kill his best friend, but she also knew how territorial fae males were with their mates. More importantly, the number of fae who now knew where her home was was starting to get on her nerves. It wasn’t like she’d left out welcome signs or anything. 

A familiar face peeked around the corner a few seconds later and grinned at her annoyed expression. “Morning,” Aria smirked. “You might want to put some clothes on.”

Kali grumbled but did as she was told, tugging on the fighting leathers she preferred for more intense jobs. Aria gave an approving nod at the number of weapons and tools she buckled on and slid into their sheathes before heading towards the exit. 

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was a little sharper than she’d like for a friend — or whatever Aria and her strange crew were to her — but this wasn’t how she planned to spend her morning. 

Aria grinned without looking offended. “Currently, I plan to watch your mate kick Stryker’s ass.”

The two females reached the beach and took in the brawl still going strong. They moved so quickly that it was difficult to tell who was winning and Kali felt her estimation for their fighting abilities inch higher. Stryker was sporting a nasty cut above one dark eyebrow while Rhone had a spectacular bruise blooming on his cheekbone. Each time one of them landed an attack she couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. 

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?”

The tang of lust and longing that pressed against Kali’s shields from Aria was enough to make her snarl in warning until she noticed that the brunette’s focus was entirely on Stryker. 

Interesting. 

“They are indeed,” Kali replied dryly. 

Aria’s jaw clenched momentarily before she was back to the charming, cocky female Kali was more familiar with. “Sorry for interrupting your morning, but the timetable for the meetings today have changed. I know how intense the first days of the mate bond can be.”

Kali snuck a glance over at the other female. That explained the curious play of emotions that twisted and brewed like a storm between Stryker and Aria although she still didn’t know why they seemed so furious with one another. A mystery for another day perhaps.

“So you’re a messenger as well as a mercenary?”

Aria’s smile was wicked. “Among other things. I figured you’d rather us see you...distracted than a bunch of strangers or dignitaries. Plus, now you’re armed in time to meet your future mother in law.”

Kali’s humor vanished in a rush of nausea. “She’s coming to Adriata?”

“They should be here within the hour.”

Some of her distress must have bled into the air around her because Rhone abruptly twisted in Stryker’s grip hard enough to send the other male flying through the air and turned toward her. His eyes scanned her face worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

Stryker limped over with a scowl aimed at Rhône, still covered in sand. “I regret teaching you that move, pup.”

Rhone rolled his eyes. 

Oddly, the gestured helped calm some of her nerves for the coming interaction. “Your mother is about to arrive at Adriata.”

Her mate paled slightly, new tension bracketing his lips. He turned toward Stryker, “Is she well enough to be away from the palace?”

Stryker hesitated, eyes flicking briefly to Aria with a wave of apprehension that Kali could practically taste like bitter acid in her mouth, before he shrugged. “Can you blame her for wanting to hunt down the ones responsible for destroying half of her family?”

Rhone swallowed hard, looking down. 

Kali frowned at the spymaster, “Does she know the truth of Kallias’ murder? She doesn’t blame Rhone, does she?”

“The events of that night have been...mostly glossed over,” Stryker hedged, “No one was certain how she would handle Thrace’s involvement.”

“Did she know they blamed Rhone for everything?” Kali’s voice was sharp and Rhone looked up in surprise.

“How did you know about that?”

Then it was her turn to look away and carefully strengthen her shields so none of her emotions slipped out. “I heard Thrace that night when--when they took you away.”

Rhone whispered a vicious curse before he wrapped his arms around her, letting his scent and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek center her. His fingers carded through her hair in a soothing sweep and Kali had the sense to understand the touch was as comforting for him as it was to her.

“As much as I wish I could leave you to celebrating you new bond,” Stryker said heavily, “We cannot continue to ignore the mess that Thrace and Delorea left behind in Kharos. Even with the charges of murder going unanswered for the time being, Rhone is the new High Lord and no one has seen him since the night Thrace was killed.”

“Are they going to hold him responsible for that?” Kali asked sharply.

“I did kill Thrace,” Rhone said gently and brushed a kiss across her brow. “Looks like we’re both criminals for now.”

She scowled at him. “Everything you’ve done was justified -- it’s hardly the same as my history.”

Aria looked grim, “Let’s not start comparing our sins or we’ll be late.”

Stryker winced at her expression, but nodded. “Come on,” he said with forced levity, “if we hurry, we’ll get back in time for lunch.”

____________________________________________

As soon as their horses cleared the white stone arches of Adriata’s inner defensive walls, it was clear that Stryker’s optimistic plans for a relaxing lunch wouldn’t happen.

The spymaster looked up with wide, shocked eyes a moment before a liveried messenger raced across the courtyard toward them. Kali felt the younger male’s fear race through the air ahead of him like a swarm of stinging bees that made her fingers clench around the reins in her hands a moment before she slipped out of the saddle. 

“My lady -” It took her a moment to realize that he was addressing her instead of Aria or the others, but he continued before she could process the new tightness in her chest, “-I’ve been sent to bring you to Lord Tarquin.”

Rhone and Stryker remained silent at her side so she stepped forward. “What’s happened?”

The boy’s eyes were wide and bright with adrenaline when he stared up at her hesitantly and she gave him a quick, reassuring smile. It didn’t even take a piece of her magic for the messenger to relax enough to say, “The news just came in -- the Night Court is under attack!”

Sound faded to the muffled echoes of being underwater. Her chest rose in fell in great gasping breaths that had Rhone turning toward her and speaking in a low voice that she couldn’t quite make out. Stryker and Aria moved toward the startled looking messenger, their mouths forming questions that Kali wasn’t ready to make out.

She tried to tell herself that Rhysand was the most powerful High Lord in all of Prythian, but that knowledge was washed away by years of watching him be forced to his knees beneath Amarantha’s cruelty. He’d survived so much and now...

Rhysand could be dead.

It wasn’t until her mind formed the thought that Kali realized how much of her hope rested on the Lord of Nightmares to destroy Amarantha. Who else would understand the darkness that lurked Under the Mountain? Who else could she trust to do whatever it took to drag Amarantha back to hell? 

Suddenly, their plans amounted to little more than suicide.

“Breathe, Kali,” Rhone repeated and she blinked when she realized he must have been speaking to her in the midst of her spiral, “Breathe with me, baby. He’s okay. He can handle anything Amarantha throws at him.”

She stared at him for a long moment, centering herself in the steady rise and fall of his chest. “We have to kill her, Rhone,” she gasped, “She has to die.”

“I know, love, I know. We’re going to. She won’t be allowed to hurt anyone else.”

Kali nodded jerkily, taking a step back so she could meet Stryker’s gaze. “We can’t afford to wait for the other Courts to respond to the call -- she can’t gain any momentum or she will destroy us all.”

Without waiting for their response, she stalked across the courtyard toward the section of the palace that Cresseida said Tarquin met with his advisors and important visitors. She didn’t have to look back to know Rhone and the others followed -- she could feel the weight of their gaze itching between her shoulder blades.

If Tarquin was surprised to see his sister walk into his study looking pale and flighty, he didn’t show it. Eyes bluer than the ocean outside scanned over her as though he were checking for injuries and satisfied to see that she was in one piece. 

He smiled faintly, “Good morning, Kali.”

Despite the panic pounding in her blood, she felt a burst of relief that Tarquin seemed genuinely happy to see her even after all the trouble she’d caused. “I -- I’m sorry I ran,” she whispered and it wasn’t until said the words aloud that she realized how true they were.

“Next time talk to me instead of disappearing without a trace,” he said with a smile that felt much more genuine.

Kali looked down, not sure if that was something she could promise. It probably wouldn’t matter once Amarantha found her again. She could already feel the sand in the hourglass of her lifetime running out.

Rhone’s fingers drifted down her arm to intertwine with hers and she took a deep, centering breath.

“We heard about the Night Court,” Stryker said briskly, “Has there been any updates?”

“Not yet.” Tarquin’s expression was grim. “Apparently several groups attacked cities scattered throughout the territory to spread Rhys’ army as thin as possible while they respond. Most of the casualties have been civilians.”

Kali blinked hard, fighting against the grief and fury that spread through the room like a sick cloud. 

Stryker cursed, pacing away from Tarquin towards the balcony like he needed the breeze on his face. Aria made an aborted movement toward him, but bit her lip and stopped herself before he noticed. Kali resisted the urge to roll her eyes -- at least she and Rhone weren’t the only couple who avoided talking about their problems. The mercenary glanced at her and narrowed her eyes in a silent warning.

“So the Night Court won’t be able to assist in our assault on Amarantha,” Rhone said.

“She did this on purpose,” Kali growled, “She knows that Rhys is her biggest threat and that he wouldn’t risk his people in an attack.”

Tarquin nodded, eyes flinty in the afternoon sunlight. “She needs time to gather power.”

“We can’t give it to her. We need to attack as soon as possible.”

“Kali, we can’t --” Whatever Rhone would’ve said in protest was cut off by a sharp gesture from Stryker.

“The Winter delegation is here.”

Rhone looked like the breath was knocked out of him as he turned and moved toward the door, Kali and Stryker hard on his heels. His mind was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. Hope. Fear. Grief. Anger. All fluctuating so intensely that she couldn’t do more than offer a thread of calm to try to anchor him.

By the time they reached the great hall, Kali could make out the familiar winter-bright uniforms of the royal guard. They looked painfully out of place among the jeweled colors and gleaming sunlight of the Summer Palace. Rhone’s pace increased at the sight of the two familiar figures standing at the center of the group and Kali slowed to let him approach on his own. His steps came to an awkward stop a few feet away from what was left of his family.

Vivianne leaned heavily against Phinn and seemed completely oblivious to the activity around her. The once gleaming mass of pale blonde hair fell in limp strands around a face bearing the dark circles of countless nights without rest. Her eyes were fixed on some middle distance without any sign of comprehension on her delicate features. It looked like she’d lost half her body weight and there was no sign of the icy power that usually simmered in the air around her.

It was the first time she’d seen the Lady of Winter since Kallias’ death and Kali felt her breath stutter in her chest at the devastation and pain that poured from her like an endless tide. Oh, gods. How was Vivianne standing? How had she even survived this long on her own? There was no trace of the confident, smiling woman who’d invited her into their home for dinner and treated her like she was worthy of her son.

Without thinking, Kali moved forward and reached for the wellspring of power within her soul. Phinn’s eyes went wide with panic, but she ignored him and the weapons their guard lowered at her to take Vivianne’s hand. Her power surged forward eagerly, chasing away the grief that carved heavy lines across the High Lady’s face and releasing the tension from her stance in a rush. She poured every ounce of peace and hope she could create into the Winter Queen until the other female’s eyes opened and stared down at her.

“You…” Vivianne rasped, eyes wild despite Kali’s attempt at comfort. “You’re the one who came to the palace.”

“Yes,” Kali murmured, tightening her grip on Vivianne’s arm to accept a little more of her weight. Phinn looked nauseous at how close the two of them were, but kept his eyes fixed on his brother. The rest of the soldiers shifted anxiously, ready for an outbreak of any sort of violence against their battered royal family. “My name isn’t Jessa though -- it’s Kali.”

Vivianne’s eyes went sharp and flicked to where Stryker was still standing nearby.

“Mother,” Rhone breathed, coming to stand beside Kali. “I--I’m so sorry.”

“Is it true?” The Lady of Winter cut in with a quick gesture that halted Rhone’s hands mid-reach. “Did you kill your brother?”

Rhone faltered, lowering his arms to his side and clenching his hands into fists. Slowly, without any attempt to defend himself, he nodded.

Vivianne’s face twisted with enough grief that Kali’s knees threatened to buckle in the aftershocks. Phinn cursed, reaching for his sword as the guards at his back did the same.

“Wait!” Stryker’s voice sounded strangely loud in the great hall and the shock of it was enough to gather everyone’s attention briefly. “Vivianne -- My Lady, please. Just hear him out. There’s more to this story than what it seems.”

Somewhere behind her, Aria made a choked sound of fury and Stryker twisted to look back her. “Shit, Aria--”

“Save it,” Aria snapped, twisting on her heel to stalk towards their suite of rooms. “I’ve heard enough.”

Kali and Rhone frowned at the strange exchange and watched Stryker’s face fall into grim lines, shoulders drooping miserably. When she raised an eyebrow in silent question, he only shook his head. The spymaster took a shaky breath before visibly forcing himself to focus on the growing conflict in front of him. Kali was sure she was the only one who noticed the way his green eyes kept going back to the hallway where Aria disappeared and how his muscles bunched with the need to follow.

Tarquin stepped up with a genial smile. “Why don’t we move somewhere a little more private? I’ll have some food brought up so we can discuss everything at length.”

Vivianne stared at Rhone for a long moment before giving the High Lord of Summer a stiff nod and the ghost of a smile. She accepted his proffered arm with the grace of a queen and let him lead her to the comfortable study where Kali had told him about her past.

Rhone watched his mother move with haunted eyes and Kali took his hand gently, trying not to break her promise not to use her powers on him. “It’ll be okay, princeling,” she whispered instead, “She hasn’t gotten the chance to hear the truth yet.”

He gave her a small, grateful smile and moved to follow.

Tarquin’s study remained unchanged from her last visit aside from the terrace doors being opened to expose the bright Summer sun and a long banquet table straining under the weight of countless plates of food. They awkwardly took their places at the edges of the table with Kali, Rhone, and Stryker on one side facing Vivianne and Phinn and Tarquin placing himself at the head.

The sound of the door opening again had Kali looking up in time to see Cresseida rush toward her with a relieved smile. Without hesitation, her cousin pulled Kali into a hug tight enough to make her let out a squeak of surprise before she held her out at arms length. “If you ever disappear like that again, I will hunt you down and strangle you myself,” Cresseida threatened and Kali pretended not to hear Stryker’s snicker behind her. “I am glad you finally managed to fix things between you and your mate though.”

Kali flushed in embarrassment and caught the narrow eyed look Tarquin leveled at Rhone who was studiously ignoring his mate’s big brother in favor of making her a plate of food. “How did you know?” she managed.

“Please,” Cresseida said dismissively, “Why did you think I had you making all sorts of food down in the kitchen? You two clearly needed all the help you could get.”

Kali stared at her for a long moment before wrapping her arms around her cousin once more. “Thank you, Cress,” she whispered softly. Cresseida nodded stiffly, dashing away a trace of moisture from her eyes and hurrying to sit in the empty seat at Tarquin’s side.

It was an odd thing to think that after all these years of dealing with the wreckage left by Amarantha, she was finally finding her place in the world.

Once they were all settled at the table, Phinn looked at his brother impatiently. “Tell us what happened.”

Rhone’s shoulders tightened and he glanced at Kali briefly, “Not all of the story is mine to tell.”

“It’s fine, Rhone,” she murmured, trying to resist the urge to soothe all the tension at the table. “They need to know the truth.”

He looked at her for a long moment before he opened his mouth and began to describe everything that had led to this point. The stolen spellbook. Their deal and the string of murders in Kharos. Even her explosion of power to save Rhone was described in carefully brief detail.

“Why does she know so much about Amarantha?” Phinn interrupted with a glare pointed at Kali.

“Because I was raised by her,” she said evenly and pretended not to be hurt by the flinches and minute winces scattered around the group.

“Well that explains a lot,” he replied with a derisive snort and directed his next comment to Tarquin. “We saw what she was capable of already.”

Rhone’s answering snarl was enough to raise the tiny hairs on the back of Kali’s neck, but it was her brother who spoke up.

“It’s your mistake to think that Kali couldn’t be anything more than what Amarantha attempted to make. She has great power, yes, but she has also proven herself to be more than willing to sacrifice herself to save the same people who would burn her at the stake for being nothing more than a prisoner of war,” Tarquin said with a grim slant to his lips. Kali gaped at him. “And I’ll thank you to keep your opinions about my little sister to yourself.”

Phinn blinked in surprise, but Vivianne only stared at Rhone. “What next?”

Their story came together slowly, painfully at times. 

When Rhone’s words failed him, Kali or Stryker stepped in with their version of events with as little emotion as they could manage. She kept her eyes fixed on the table, breathing through the miasma of emotion that hung heavy on the terrace. The headache was worth it to soothe some of the hurt from Vivianne and to prepare herself for the potential rejection from the Winter Court. If they decided to blame Kallias’ death on Rhone, she needed to be prepared to defend her mate. Tarquin already knew her story, but Cresseida’s jaw was clenched so hard that Kali was worried she would hurt herself.

When Rhone finally described their last night in Kharos, Vivianne’s fragile control seemed to snap, tears rolling silently down her gaunt face. “Tell me it wasn’t him, Rhone,” she begged. “Tell me Thrace didn’t--”

Rhone’s silence was answer enough and Kali felt guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders that she hadn’t been fast enough to save the High Lord of Winter. How would this family ever survive the devastation she’d unwillingly brought to their door?

“Delorea was an empath, like me,” Kali explained quietly. “She manipulated Thrace’s emotions and perspective for months before the attack. He would have fought her hold throughout -- it’s why she was forced to drain the magic of others.” She swallowed hard to fight against the memories of paper-thin skin and sightless eyes or the cruel tilt of Thrace’s mouth when he’d forced her to bare her sins to Rhone. “He was a victim as well.”

A frail comfort in the blood stained wake of the Lady of Hybern.

The room fell into silence once more, punctuated by the near silent weeping of Vivianne. Rhone shifted forward, his hands reaching instinctively for his mother and Kali grieved for the bold, confident princeling who’d been his mother’s favorite pupil for years before everything had gone to hell. This time, Phinn didn’t protest when Rhone came around the table to wrap his arms around her.

Kali focused on the amount of courage and strength that was evident in Vivianne’s ability to remain sane in the wake of her mate’s passing. It was a feat not many could achieve. 

“Amarantha used Delorea and the spellbook to bring herself back to life. She took control of Delorea’s body, which may mean she can use her powers as well,” she explained quickly, keeping her gaze locked on Vivianne and watched the queen of Winter wrap her anguish and rage around her like a cloak. “She’s back and she wants everything that has been taken from her.”

“Starting with the Night Court,” Stryker summarized, “though I doubt she’ll stop there.”

“We need to move quickly, while her army is distracted with Rhysand’s forces. Before she can gather her power and rally more support from Hybern,” Kali said. Rhone nodded his agreement, but her cousin shifted anxiously in her seat.

“Kali,” Cresseida breathed, blue eyes a bit wild, “you can’t go back there. Send someone else.”

She favored her cousin with a soft smile that didn’t quite match with the death that lurked in her eyes. “I have been planning to remove each trace of Amarantha from the face of the earth for decades. I won’t risk her escaping justice again.”

Vivianne’s slow smile at that was as cold and sharp as ice, merciless in its’ beauty. “Let’s put this bitch in the ground.”


	59. Invasion

The plan was perfect. Foolproof, even, with the benefit of two two High Lords and their armies to destroy the crippled fortress of an undead nightmare.

Vivianne and Phinn were to lead the small army from the Winter Court in a sweep that would pin any reinforcements from Hybern to the coastline and ensure that Amarantha remained cut off from any support. They set off quickly after the meeting, crackling with a cold fury that made Kali go pale beside Rhone and ready to wreak their vengeance on Delorea and Amarantha. Vivianne had only paused once to lean into Rhone’s outstretched arms, breathing deeply for a moment before nodding sharply and exiting Adriata’s palace.

It was the first time Rhone considered the idea that maybe his mother wouldn’t survive the loss of her mate. She’d felt so small in his arms. Nothing like the pillar of strength and fierce intelligence that had ruled at his father’s side like she’d been born to do so.

Stryker disappeared shortly after to send off a flurry of messengers to the other Courts calling for aid. It had been decided among those gathered in Tarquin’s terrace that speed would be the best tool for ensuring that Amarantha never got the chance to gather her support and start another war in Prythian. Sending her armies to the Night Court and leaving herself unprotected against invasion would be a mistake they had no intention of allowing her to survive.

He returned in less than an hour with the small group of mercenaries flanking him. When Rhone looked at Aria with a curious tilt of his head, the brunette had only bared her teeth in a mockery of a smile.

“We want in,” she said simply, chin tilting up in challenge.

Kali glanced at Rhone briefly before looking curiously back at her. “I thought your contract was complete?”

Aria didn’t bother to look at the quiet spymaster at her side. “Amarantha once took something precious from us,” she growled, “We intend to remind her of that debt.”

Tarquin smiled easily at the group, “You can join up with my forces then, if you like. We could use the extra manpower if we are going to hold the perimeter and break through the gates.”

Aria nodded briskly and disappeared into the corridors, presumably to begin their preparations for war. Rhone watched her go and was surprised to feel a note of sadness trickling through the mate bond with Kali. He leaned one shoulder against hers, grounding her from whatever had upset her and was rewarded with a soft smile.

“Whatever happened devastated her,” she explained in a near silent whisper and he looked back at Aria’s retreating form with new interest.

“Am I going to start reading emotions now too?” he asked curiously.

“Only if I forget to shield.”

Rhone smiled, trying to ease some of the tension in his mate’s eyes. “Good. I’m only interested in your feelings anyway.”

Kali nodded and he could feel her focusing on hiding her nerves from him behind her seemingly endless mental shields. “Well mine are the most important,” she said with a hint of a smile teasing her lips.

“I assume they’re all just side effects of thinking about me all the time,” Rhone replied, giving her a serious expression.

She shoved him with a grin and he chuckled, gratified to see some of that terrible darkness clinging to her ease.

It was an odd thing to be able to reach out with his mind and touch the cool expanse of power and emotion that was his mate. Her mind felt like an endless lake, still and silent until it echoed with sensations that were not her own. He was beginning to understand why she avoided crowds and agitated people after witnessing the effects of his family’s reunion on her. Rhone knew she was keeping her own mood carefully contained through their bond so that he could focus on the meeting instead of her reaction to the oncoming interaction.

He shifted uneasily at the thought, curling an arm around her waist to ease some of his panic at the thought. Kali was barely functioning when he’d pulled her out of that hellhole and just the thought of Amarantha being alive had sent her spiraling into a panic when she’d awakened. His heart gave a painful lurch at the idea of losing his mate when he’d only just found her.

Kali looked up at him cautiously, sensing the anxiety pulsing beneath his skin. “You’re thinking too much,” she whispered gently.

Rhone leaned down to press his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. He wanted to beg her to stay where it was safe, but he knew her warrior’s heart would never allow her to watch him do battle without her. She was his equal, his everything, and he wouldn’t let his fears take away from her bravery.

“You have to stay safe,” he breathed, voice ragged. “Promise me you won’t try to take her on alone.”

His mate’s lips brushed against his and he let his eyes close to savor the touch. “I won’t let her take you from me.”

“Agreed.”

There was precious little time to savor his new mate or the shimmering bond that permanently linked them in the face of Amarantha’s return. All around them the palace was buzzing with activity; servants rushed back and forth between the kitchens and the residents’ wings trying to prepare for the march while armored soldiers seemed to flow steadily out of every hallway. Outside, he could occasionally hear the sounds of horns signalling to other members of the city guard to assemble.

Tarquin moved through the organized chaos like a beacon of calm, directing those who needed it and answering an endless tide of questions and requests with staggering patience. Rhone noticed that the High Lord was always careful to keep Kali in his sight as though he worried the crowds would spook her into running again.

Rhone was more concerned about the way his little thief seemed to be withdrawing into her carefully maintained shields, hiding the wicked intellect and humor that he’d fallen in love with beneath a carefully stoic facade. She was shoring up each of her defenses until he could barely feel her through the divide. It reminded him too much of the way she’d looked the night she’d dreamed of Amarantha and had awakened him with her terror. Even with tears streaming down her cheeks and sobs ripping free from her chest, her face had remained smooth as stone.

Not for the first time he wondered if Kali would be able to survive facing the creature from her nightmares in the flesh.

He kept his hand firmly linked in hers throughout the strategy meetings and briefings with Tarquin’s generals, refusing to let her slip into a place where he wouldn’t be able to find her again. They listened to the flurry of information carefully, Rhone speaking up occasionally when they could add a useful piece of strategy though Kali remained a silent presence at his side. His experience Under the Mountain was enough to add a rough outline of what sort of defenses to expect and potential entry points.

“The Mountain is unstable,” he explained with a quick gesture to the blueprint someone had uncovered tucked away in the palace libraries. “The ice I used when I came for Kali expanded fault lines that were only exacerbated by Amarantha’s power. I could feel it shifting when we were breaking out.”

Tarquin looked pleased with the information. “If I assisted, do you think you could do more damage to the mountain itself?”

Rhone nodded and leaned one his against the table. “You want to bring it down on top of her?”

“I can think of no better tomb than one of her own design,” the Summer Lord said with a vicious smile, “but only after we’re sure she’s dead. I won’t leave anything to chance and we can’t risk someone else trying to raise her again.”

“She’ll want to face you directly.” Both males looked up in surprise when Kali spoke up and she had to take a shaky breath before she continued, “This is her revenge for her death. She won’t let her soldiers take her victory from her. She won’t be satisfied until she had the High Lords under her control again.”

“Then we keep the other High Lords out of her reach,” Rhone said. “Tarquin and I can face her directly and finish this.”

“Rhysand will want to join the battle,” Stryker murmured with his eyes on the map.

Kali shook her head, panic bleeding into her voice. “If Amarantha is able to take his powers again, we’re all doomed.”

Rhone shifted until she was pressed more firmly against his side and he could feel the anxiety rippling off her. “No one expected her attack last time--we know what she’s capable of now.”

His mate only stared down at the table, eyes dull and shook her head again. “Keep him away.”

Tarquin met his eyes over the top of her pale hair and slowly nodded. “We’ll tell him to remain nearby in case something goes wrong although I doubt he and his mate will stay away for long. For now, we stick to the plan and keep the attack balanced between Winter and Summer’s forces.” The High Lord of Summer waited until the small group gathered on the terrace nodded their agreement before he moved towards the door with a determined stride. “Let’s finish this.”

 

The plan was perfect.

Until suddenly it wasn’t.

The Summer army made good on their orders to force their way through the lines of defense that Amarantha had maintained around her fortress. They didn’t bother with any kind of subtlety or fancy displays, just used brute force and the silver-uniformed magic wielders that Varian deployed with violent skill. Kali, Rhone, and Tarquin remained in the rearguard until the signal was given to push through the entrance they’d carefully selected in their strategy meeting.

Rhone caught sight of dark thunderclouds and stinging winds edging in from the east and gave a feral grin at the sight. The rain would serve the water magics of Summer folk nicely.

Then he and Tarquin were moving forward in a rush of brutal power towards the spellwork barring the door. They moved in easy partnership, ripping away each layer like a spider’s web and tearing into the framework preventing them from moving forward. Kali and Ifrit waiting nearby, watching their backs in case any guards attempting an attack.

As soon as the doorway fell open, shrieking one final protest, Ifrit clapped Kali on the shoulder and disappeared towards the sounds of bloodshed nearby. The small contingent of soldiers Tarquin had selected to accompany them on their mission moved forward quickly with Kali at the front. She frowned at the doorway, skin two shades paler than usual, but didn’t hesitate to step into the shadows Under the Mountain.

“This is too easy,” she muttered to Rhone and he nodded, pulling free his blade from his scabbard. He could see Kali’s eyes darting around the space, searching for any sign of foul play. Their attack should have brought all manner of hell down on their heads, but the hallway was utterly still ahead of them.

What was Amarantha planning?

The answer came the moment the last of their group stepped into the tunnel. With a groan and bone-deep shift in the rock face, the passage collapsed behind them sealing them in with the finality of a tomb.

Rhone looked up from where he’d tucked Kali beneath him to scan the darkness around him, wincing at the sudden light summoned by Tarquin. Grey dust, thick and cloying, swirled through the air around them and he heard more than one of the soldiers coughing in the relative gloom. He looked down at Kali, needing to see that she was unharmed, but all he could see was the blank nothingness he’d witnessed the night she’d slaughtered those soldiers from Hybern.

“Kali,” he whispered, reaching down to cup her cheek with his free hand, “Kali, look at me, love.”

Slowly, she blinked and shifted her eyes away from the blocked exit.

“I’m not going to let her take you back, Kali. She can’t have you.”

They were standing close enough that he could feel her chest expand on a shuddering breath. The link between them was smothered in so many barriers that he could barely feel her despite how close they were physically. It hurt to think Kali was hiding from him, but he understood the need to protect herself from the coming conflict. He didn’t want the ugly emotions of battle to touch her.

Slowly, her head shifted into a nearly imperceptible nod.

It would have to do.

Rhone dragged her into the curve of his body and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head before he returned his attention to the problem at hand. Tarquin’s men organized themselves quickly despite the sudden change in their plans. Now they would need to clear another exit route after they killed Amarantha.

Tarquin waited until Rhone nodded his readiness before taking a position at the head of their group. His blue eyes were sharp in the the dark corridor and Rhone was struck with the realization that Kali wasn’t the only one who dreaded coming face to face with Amarantha. That she wasn’t the only one facing the female who murdered her family.

Their group moved quickly through the maze of tunnels heading toward where the undead queen would be waiting. The map they’d memorized back in the palace had become priceless for their chances of making it out of this hell hole alive. As soon as they stepped into one of the larger hallways, the torches lining the room flickered to life and exposed the dirty line of invaders. More than one hissed at the sudden brightness, raising their hands to protect their sensitive eyes against the unexpected light.

They never got the opportunity to recover.

Fae soldiers and a mixture of demi-fae filled the corridor around them, surrounding them neatly on all sides. Rhone spun on his heel and threw out a burst of power that cut down four of the front runners behind them, only for more to take their place. Tarquin shouted a command that was lost in the roar of a seemingly endless stream of attackers filling the halls like ants to a disturbed mound. 

They filled the hallway, forcing the Summer soldiers back with sheer numbers and pinning them between the two groups of soldiers. Forced to decide between risking one of their own to cut down their enemy, Rhone shifted in front of his mate and focused on using his new power to rip through the cluster of Amarantha’s soldiers. Ice spread harsh and thick across the floor in wave of white, tangling and clawing at their boots and slowing their progress.

One of the soldiers toward the back of the ranks hurled a pale globe at Tarquin while the High Lord faced the other direction. Magic bloomed, cloying and vicious, and Tarquin cried out in pain before going to his knees. Amarantha’s soldiers dragged him into their midst and Kali made a ragged sound of protest, trying to get to her brother through the ranks of their own men.

Rhone cursed, pivoting to send his power out towards the other High Lord. He managed to force back their lines for a brief moment before something slammed into his back and the world went white. Pain slithered through his veins and the ground shifted oddly beneath his feet. Distantly he could hear the sounds of battle still continuing around him, could hear Kali shouting his name, but he couldn’t seem to focus.

Her panic was enough to clear his head, but when he tried to reach for her, his arms remained fixed at his side. Cold bands of nauseating power curled around his arms and legs, keeping him helpless. He reached for his magic through the panic, but the effort left him dizzy and gagging against the rough stone pressed against his face.

Someone stood over him, crouched protectively and he didn’t have to look up to know it was his mate.

“--down,” an unfamiliar voice snapped,”or we kill them all.”

“You could try,” Kali snarled and he watched her hands tighten on her weapons.

“My queen has ordered the High Lords to be brought to her alive--she didn’t say anything about you, pet.”

Rhone felt panic burning through him at the realization that he was helpless to protect her now. He wheezed, fighting against the bonds until they bit into his skin and blood ran down his fingers. “Kali, don’t.”

She didn’t look down at him, but he felt the moment she realized this was a fight she wouldn’t win. With a sharp gesture to the remaining Summer soldiers, she let her knives drop with a jarring clang to the ground and watched Amarantha’s men rush forward.

That quickly they were lost.

Rough hands dragged him down the hallway towards the throne room where he knew Amarantha waited. He was unable to do anything but watch while two soldiers briskly stripped Kali of all her weapons and shoved her in the same direction. The sight of it brought a furious snarl from his chest and his vision spotted madly as he surged against whatever magic kept him contained. Whatever relief he might have felt at the sight of Tarquin--furious and fighting--next to him was lost as they were marched into the large hall where he’d watched Delorea revive a monster.

At the center of the massive space, Delorea’s body waited, poised and perfect on the cruel metal throne. A slow smile curled the full lips that had once pressed against his own and the thought was enough to make him sick. A sick sort of madness lingered in the air hinting at the evil that lurked beneath the pale skin of a former princess. Rhone settled for tilting his chin up in silent challenge as he and Tarquin were shoved to their knees in front of the raised dias.

Amarantha’s eyes flicked over them dismissively and scanned the captured soldiers behind them. “Kill them,” she spat with a lazy gesture.

Tarquin’s cry of impotent outrage was smothered by the oddly synchronized sound of dozens of swords cutting through the air behind them. Rhone closed his eyes for a moment, knowing the sound of them falling to the ground in a spray of blood would haunt him.

“And the female?”

Rhone whipped around in his chains, lunging forward awkwardly. “DON’T TOUCH HER!” he spat. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

Amarantha’s eyes went flat, but her smile never faded as Kali slowly walked forward. “Kali,” she purred, “I didn’t think you’d be so foolish as to return to my Court after all you’ve done.”

His mate’s face was carefully neutral and if he couldn’t see her standing next to him, he wouldn’t know she was still alive, their bond was so tightly sealed. Unarmed and unprotected, his thief approached the creature who’d destroyed her family and attempted to warp everything that was good in her.

Kali stopped, close enough that he could feel the heat of her presence against his skin, but she didn’t look away from Amarantha. “It’s been a long time, mother.”

Tarquin hissed out a curse, but the two females ignored him in favor of watching each other. The red head tilted her head slight, like some great beast surveying her prey. “Did you think you could kill me, little one?” she asked softly.

“Not really,” Kali shrugged and tucked her hands into her pockets casually, “It would have been a waste of all my effort.”

Amarantha’s laugh echoed through the room and settled against his brain like shards of glass. “ _Your_ effort? And what were you hoping to gain from comiing here?”

“The return of the rightful Queen of Prythian.”

The room went quiet.

Rhone shifted anxiously beside her, trying to understand what was happening. Trying to understand what Kali was implying or why she continued to smile pleasantly at the female who’d stolen her from every hope of happiness.

Tarquin stared at her in horror. “What are you talking about, Calypso?”

“Do you like your gifts, my queen?” Kali drawled without bothering to acknowledge her brother, trailing a lazy hand over Rhone’s shoulders with none of the sweetness that had colored the night before. “Two High Lords and a whore on the way.”

Rhone made a soft, disbelieving sound, shaking his head stubbornly at the scene in front of him. His muscles bunched with the effort to shake off the magic that had him trapped in place. He kept waiting for Kali to look at him with that wicked little smirk, to give him some hint that the cruel twist of her mouth or the dead look in her eyes was nothing more than a trick.

But she only had eyes for Amarantha.

“You betrayed me,” Amarantha snapped, but her tone was softer now. Curious.

“And who told you I betrayed you?” Kali replied with a cruel smile that sat oddly on her expressive face, “I bet Delorea came running right to you when she heard the rumors—eager to prove she was the daughter you should love.” Delorea’s eyes glared balefully at her but with Amarantha’s disdain, so she continued to speak, walking up the long hall to her throne as she had all of her childhood. 

“How could I betray you when you were the one who ordered me to hunt the rebellion in your court? To make them think they could defeat you?” Kali paused at the edge of the steps leading up to Amarantha’s throne to look at her with fervent worship, “I have done nothing but serve you from my first breath.”

Rhone felt his breath catch in his chest, his head shaking in mute disbelief. What was she saying? Why was Kali doing this?

“And yet Delorea was the one to bring me back…”

Kali shrugged, clearly anticipating the argument. “Using the book she stole from me.”

“Then why didn’t you use the spellbook after you stole it from Kallias?” Amarantha pressed. 

“Delorea would never allow me near the pieces of your body that were recovered after your death—not when it would mean losing her chance to defeat me once and for all--” She glanced over at Rhone and he felt horror and understanding take root and spread like ice through his veins at her gloating smile. “--so I had to come up with a plan that would get all three of the necessary spell components in one place—the book, your body, and...an amplifier.”


	60. The Beginning of the End

Kali walked slowly up the steps of the dais to approach the throne, letting the joy and relief at Amarantha’s presence bloom and spread beyond her shields. It stung like acid to think that even after everything, that much was still true. Amarantha relaxed slightly, Delorea’s mouth twisting into a fond smile. “I am glad to see you again, my little love.”

The endearment from her childhood was like a knife in her heart, twisting and cutting into the brief happiness of her time with Rhone. She didn’t dare look back at him and see the proof of her deceptions on his face. Disbelief and horror dripped from the ceiling and clung to her skin like blood until it was all she could do to keep from wiping away at the invisible stains.

Tarquin would never forgive her for this. His soldiers’ deaths would hang around her neck like stones set to drown her in these floodwaters. She could taste the vicious elation of Amarantha’s soldiers at the carnage and the frantic panic of Summer Court fae who would never again see sunlight.

But that was only a fragment of the agony that was watching Rhone begin to believe the lies she spilled.

Even now she could feel his eyes on her back, leaving scars that ran deeper than any whip or torture. He didn’t want to believe her. Didn’t want to think that the bedrock of their trust in one another could disappear so easily. It took only a nudge of her powers to twist that keening disbelief into nauseating certainty.

She was a monster once more.

Tears dripped down her face and Kali fell to her knees at Amarantha’s feet, pressing her face against the red fabric of her gown. She let the aching sadness that had kept her company for so long build into an ocean of grief, drowning the room in her sorrow. A symphony of broken and cut off sobs echoed in the empty space--a fitting companion to her mood.

“You’re stronger now,” Amarantha observed with a note of approval in her tone. “With you and the High Lords as bait, I will finally see Prythian fall to its knees before me. Finally watch them crown me queen of all I see.”

“Yes, my queen,” Kali whispered, fervent as a worshipper at a shrine. Each word a drop of poison that promised nothing but death and pain. “I will never forgive myself for failing to protect you from their betrayal. Please forgive me.”

The blow was painful for all it was expected. Amarantha’s nails dug into her scalp cruelly, yanking Kali’s head back until her throat was exposed to the hand that traced the fluttering heartbeat beneath her skin.

“Do you honestly think someone as worthless as you could have saved me?” the dead queen hissed, shaking Kali hard enough that her neck creaked in protest.

“N--no, my queen,” Kali whimpered. Her hands remained weakly at her sides, accepting whatever violence Amarantha would rain down on her. She was unarmed and outnumbered, trapped at the feet of the female who’d broken her each time she attempted to rise up.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you?” Amarantha mused with a cruel smile, “You know how little value your life holds for anyone, don’t you?”

There was a furious sound behind her, but Kali forced her eyes to remain wide and fixed on the predator in front of her. She had to keep Amarantha’s temper and violence centered on her for as long as she could. It would be the only thing that would keep Rhone and Tarquin alive.

“My only value is in service to you,” she said quietly and slowly tilted her head further back so she was completely vulnerable.

The gamble worked enough that Amarantha relaxed her hold on Kali’s hair and smoothed a hand over her cheek. Kali leaned into the gentle touch, closing her eyes and shuddering out a breath of relief as some of the rising violence in the room eased.

“At least you haven’t forgotten all I’ve taught you.”

“No, my queen. I was created to serve you as you rise to your rightful place as ruler of Prythian.”

Amarantha tsked at the reminder of what she intended to do. “I will succeed in everything the weakling King of Hybern could not and rebuild everything that was destroyed by that mortal bitch,” she snarled, tapping long red nails against the arm of her throne. 

“We will not serve a false queen.”

The low growling voice cut through Amarantha’s gloating rant and caused her to shift her attention away from Kali to where Rhone knelt, wreathed in the blood red bolts of magic that left him anchored on the floor. 

Dread knotted in Kali’s stomach and she was forced to clench her fist helplessly at her side. No, please, she begged silently, don’t make me do this.

Rhone shifted, bright eyes steady and furious on Amarantha, “You are nothing but a shell of a long dead tyrant.”

Amarantha hissed but before she could gesture to the guards circled around them, there was the sharp sound of flesh hitting skin. The blow was enough to snap his neck to the side and blood pool in his mouth where the sharp edge of his canine sliced into his cheek. He spat out a stream of red and glared up at his assailant, mind still struggling to understand this new truth. 

Kali stood with her hand still raised, breathing harsh and no emotion in her eyes. “Don’t speak to your queen with such disrespect.”

Rhone’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, eyes blazing up at her. She didn’t need to be an empath to understand the emotion simmering there. 

Betrayal.

It burned worse than the lash, worse than the hatred of soldiers and kings. Her knees trembled weakly beneath her, legs too uncertain to bear the weight of what she’d done. She sucked in a ragged breath, forcing herself to keep up the facade of perfect emptiness that she’d learned so long ago.

If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t have let them feel the brief brush of her fingers against his waist. Darting in with the cover of her body to tuck the small knife from his belt into her sleeve. His eyes went wide with understanding and she felt a burst of his terror like icy sweat down her back, but she kept her face expressionless.

 _Forgive me,_ she wanted to whisper to him. _You were worth the wait, worth the years in the dark. I would do it again and again if it meant I could have you._

Rhone surged forward as far as his bonds would allow, desperation in every line of his face. “Kali, don’t do this,” he begged. “Don’t…”

Tarquin was staring at her now, stunned and heartbroken and it almost made her want to explain. To give away the truth behind her cruel words, but maybe it was better this way.

After so many years running from this inevitable conclusion, now that she stared her mortality in the face, Kali was surprised to feel strangely calm. The pain would only last for a few moments more. Death was always waiting for her here -- she’d been foolish to imagine she could run from it. 

The last few weeks had been more than she could have ever imagined. She’d met and loved Rhone and he had returned her to her family. Yes, she could be satisfied with these moments of happiness. They were more than she had ever deserved, more than she even knew to dream of.

Kali allowed herself one last moment to drink in the familiar shape of his face, trying not to think of the new pain twisting his expression. _Goodbye, princeling._

Then she summoned the last of her willpower and turned her back on him.

This was their only opportunity to end this once and for all. Amarantha would carve out every ounce of power thrumming through Rhone and Tarquin’s veins and twist it to her will. It would become her new shield against the rest of the High Lords and all of Prythian. Then she would unleash Kali on their armies to bring them to their knees. Maybe Kali would go willingly, if it meant she could keep Rhone from any more harm.

She refused to give Amarantha that chance.

Her steps were silent as she slowly stepped closer to Amarantha, ready to take her place beside her one last time. 

Amarantha was smiling, smug with her victory now. “I forgot how delightfully cruel you can be, Kali darling. Even I’ve never led a male along that far.”

Kali forced a smile to her lips, hating herself for it. “I was trained by the best.” There was no bitterness in her tone and she watched the truth of her statement sink into Amarantha’s bones like a ray of sunlight.

A new confidence entered Amarantha’s borrowed face. “I knew you would never betray me. How could you after I sheltered you for so long?” Delorea’s soft fingers brushed across Kali’s cheek in a whisper of a caress.

“Don’t you touch her!” Rhone snarled.

He gave a surprised grunt of pain when the magic binding him spread over his face, limiting him to furious noises. Amarantha cackled, “Really, Kali, you’ll have to show me how you managed to ensnare his affections so easily. I have so many plans.” She tapped a finger against full lips, “He must have truly believed that he was your mate despite all of Delorea’s attempts to hold him. His agony really is delicious-- I can’t wait to feel Rhysand’s desperation when I gut his human bitch in front of him, over and over again.”

Kali closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength. “Of course, my queen.”

“Now,” Amarantha purred to her, eyes going heavy lidded with excitement and extended her hand to Kali in the same gesture Kali’s nightmares had replicated night after night. “You know what I want.”

Swallowing hard, Kali ignored her hand and stepped close enough that the edges of Amarantha’s skirts brushed over her toes. Gently, she leaned forward to press a kiss to the queen’s forehead, feeling her frown against her lips. Then Amarantha sighed happily as Kali’s powers flowed into her like an endless sea of sunlight and peace.

“I loved you,” Kali whispered to the only mother she’d ever known and sank the knife deep into her chest.

Then the world went white.


	61. Into the Light

The blast of Amarantha’s magic sent Kali flying in a graceless heap into one of the sculpted columns nearby. She hit hard enough to make her bones give a groan of protest, but she forced herself to roll to avoid the next attack. It slammed into the smooth marble near her head and was enough to give her the adrenaline needed to get to her feet.

“You little bitch...” Amarantha hissed, looking like she wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or insulted by Kali’s betrayal. “Did you really think you were strong enough to kill me?”

Kali’s eyes flicked to the hilt of the knife still sticking out of Amarantha’s chest and the rapidly growing stain around it. She must have missed whatever passed for a heart in Delorea’s chest. Perhaps Amarantha hadn’t been convinced by Kali’s acting after all and prepared herself for an attack.

She paid for the momentary distraction.

A starburst of bright red energy smashed into her stomach and sent her to the ground hard enough that she must have blacked out for a moment because when she opened her eyes, it was to Amarantha’s cruel smile. Her hands curled around Kali’s neck in a painful vice that closed off her desperate attempts for air.

This close, Kali could see the pain lingering in the other female’s eyes and feel the faint tremor in her arm as she lifted Kali up to dangle helplessly in the air. Even if the dagger hadn’t pierced her heart, it was draining her power and would eventually leave her open for another attack. Distantly, Kali wondered if that would be enough to give Rhone and Tarquin a chance to kill her.

“KALI!”

Rhone’s voice made her jerk in Amarantha’s grasp and Kali turned eyes watery with pain toward her mate. He was struggling against the bonds weakened by Amarantha’s injuries with his focus only on Kali and Kali felt the love she felt for him threaten to overwhelm her. It gave her the strength she needed to rake her nails across Amarantha’s exposed arms in a weak attempt to dislodge her grip and focus on the battle before her.

“Why must you always fight me, daughter?” Amarantha snarled, backhanding Kali hard enough that she watched dark spots dance across her vision.

“I am not your daughter,” Kali bit out, “You murdered my parents and used me to control the rest of your prisoners. Then when you were done with me you threw me into a pit and forgot about me. You are not my mother.”

She reached out instinctively for the twisting emotions that felt like glass shredding into her shields. It clung to her like an oil slick, shifting and changing in a dizzying array of violence, pain, and fury. Amarantha’s mind was like nothing she’d ever felt before and made her stomach churn in protest. No wonder she hadn’t been swept under by Kali’s abilities when she made her attack.

Amarantha sneered. “You are nothing more than a pet that has misbehaved.”

Kali bared her teeth in a growl, “And yet I still managed to sink my knife through your shriveled excuse for a heart, you stinking pile of shit.”

She expected the insult to make the other female to toss her against the wall again and give her the room she needed to make an attack. Instead, Amarantha shook her hard enough that Kali’s teeth rattled in her skull. 

“I intend to make you pay for every drop of blood you’ve spilled this day,” she purred and Kali flinched at the insanity lingering in her eyes. Whatever creature Delorea had dragged up from the depths seemed cobbled together with nothing but rage and spite. There was very little left of the queen who’d ruled Under the Mountain with an iron grip.

Summoning the strength she needed from the gleaming chain of magic that bound her soul to Rhone’s, Kali tilted her head up with a challenging smirk. “Your threats don’t frighten me. I’m not afraid to die.”

Rhone made a furious, cut off sound behind Amarantha and, before she could stop herself, Kali’s eyes flicked to her mate. Almost immediately she forced herself to focus back on Amarantha, but the damage was already done.

“No,” Amarantha said slowly, eyes moving from Kali to Rhone. “I have something better in mind.”

Kali thrashed in her grip, fear blanking her mind until she could barely breathe. No. No. No. NO.

“Oh yes,” Amarantha purred and Kali blanched when she realized her babbling had been out loud. “What better way to punish you than to gut your mate right in front of you?”

Almost casually, she tossed Kali to the ground and stepped away, zeroing in on Rhone’s furious form. He glared up at the would-be queen without an ounce of fear. His muscles bunched with the need to be on his feet, but the bonds only tightened around him until he made a sound of pain. His back remained straight and proud, shoulders unbowed even with his death looming over him.

She loved him so much it hurt.

Kali hit the ground hard and let the momentum carry her back to her feet. She darted forward, not bothering to scramble for a weapon in her mad dash to get back to Rhone. An arrow thunked into the meat of her arm and she felt a burning line of pain sear across her cheekbone as another shot by. Ignoring the pain, she kept moving, even as Amarantha’s archers prepared to fire again.

“STOP!” Amarantha roared and her soldiers froze, hesitating with the weapons still raised. Kali went still at the sight of the long line of red dripping onto the knife Amarantha now held to Rhone’s throat. “Don’t touch her,” she said, “I want her to watch every moment of his suffering.”

Kali took a helpless step forward and watched the other female tighten her grip.

“Come any closer and I’ll have them pin you to the wall. Just like old times...”

Panic was a living, breathing creature in her chest, fluttering against her ribcage in a staccato beat. Her bones felt like they were vibrating with the need to get to Rhone, to protect him. Her muscles bunched frantically with momentum without an outlet. Kali’s hands clenched and unclenched as though she could will a weapon to reappear in them.

She’d failed. She’d failed to kill Amarantha and Rhone would pay the price for her failure.

Rhone’s gaze was steady on her and she saw no trace of the protective rage she’d witnessed when their roles were reversed. She knew without checking that his mind was just as calm, ready to accept his sacrifice if it gave her the chance to kill Amarantha. It made her go cold and brittle as the ice in Rhone’s veins to consider what he was willing to go through for her sake.

Instinctively, she took another, trembling step forward and Amarantha tsked, “I guess you didn’t believe me.”

Almost casually, Amarantha cut a rough slash through Rhone’s armor and into the muscle of his chest. Kali froze.

“Do you know how long it took for Jurien to die?” the other female crooned, tilting Rhone’s head up until she could rake her nails over the smooth skin of his neck. She lingered over the fading mark left behind by Kali on their last night together. “I would have kept him alive longer, but he was so boring once he was broken. I’ve had so long to perfect my craft now...I wonder how long your mate will last?”

Her knife ghosted over the bleeding gash across his chest and went lower. “Should I start by pulling his intestines free from his gut?” Kali’s eyes watched Amarantha shifted to run her thumb across his cheekbone in a mockery of a caress. “He is rather pretty, isn’t he?” she mused, “It would be a shame to waste such a handsome male...maybe I’ll let him live to warm my bed.”

Kali felt something dark bloom in her gut as she watched that knife graze across Rhone’s stomach to dip lower. His eyes remained fixed on her face and the acceptance reflected there made her lungs go sideways. 

“I wonder if you’ll thank me for saving your mate’s life in return for his service...maybe I’ll even let you watch me break him.”

The thought of watching Amarantha touching Rhone, of witnessing the same blank agony that colored Rhysand’s expression for years in her mate’s eyes, made something in her snap. 

She’d die before she let Amarantha use Rhone to hurt her.

Hesitation gone, Kali ripped into the well of magic and sensation that rested deep in her chest and pulled it free. Pain, rage, and helpless fear swamped the room like a sickness that she couldn’t allow herself to revel in. The enemy fae behind her cried out in surprise and she let their panic magnify the effects of her gifts. Screams and pained groans echoed around the chamber like a familiar lullaby.

“Don’t touch him.” The words were gravel over snow, a whetstone against the razor’s edge of her fury.

Amarantha flinched, her hands shaking around the knife as the full force of Kali’s power slammed into her. Kali watched the other female attempt to control her body’s helpless reaction to the siren’s song of her empathy. She reached for her mind and felt it slip in and out of her grip like smoke.

Behind them there was a crash as several of the soldiers fell to their knees, clutching at their heads as they screamed long and broken. Good, Kali thought with a cruel smile, she wanted them to suffer. Tarquin’s eyes were wide with surprise and shock at the evidence of their mother’s gift and she could see his chest rising and falling in a quick rhythm. She tried not to think about what he might think of how she gained this skill. 

Nothing mattered except keeping Amarantha from touching Rhone again.

“I--I’ll kill him-” Amarantha started and hissed out a breath when Kali shot a bolt of pain into her skull.

Rhone’s mouth curled into a slow, wicked smile and Kali took another gliding step toward him. No fear reflected in his expression and she felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. Her mate knew she wouldn’t hurt him. He trusted her.

The bright magic binding the two High Lords flickered like a candle’s flame and Kali redoubled her attack. Amarantha stumbled under the onslaught, holding onto Rhone through sheer vicious willpower.

“Release him,” Kali purred, “and I’ll kill you quickly.” 

She prowled forward, closing the distance between them. The pain from the arrow still lodged in her arm along with the rest of her injuries seemed to disappear with the satisfaction of watching true fear grow in Amarantha’s eyes. 

Amarantha tightened her grip on her knife and tried to sneer. “You don’t have the stones to kill me.”

Kali laughed, a cruel sound that made another round of terrified soldiers whimper behind her. “You’re going to die today, Amarantha. The only thing left to decide is how.”

The other female flinched and took an instinctive step back, releasing Rhone in favor of reaching for her magic once more. Her mate rolled, coming to his feet in a fluid motion so he could help Tarquin break through the last of his bonds. Kali released her hold on the fae behind her in favor of focusing on the bloodied queen before her. She had no doubt the two High Lords could finish off the last of the guards without delay.

Amarantha took a step towards them, but Kali angled her body between them and redoubled her attacks until her body was vibrating with the strain of it. “You have failed in everything you’ve ever attempted,” she spat, forcing the redhead to keep her focus on Kali, “Delorea was the only one foolish enough to believe bringing you back to life would change that fact.”

“Delorea was loyal--”

 

“Delorea was an idiot who deserved her fate.”

With a roar, Amarantha sent a blast of red magic toward her but it slammed harmlessly into a shield of ice. Kali glanced over at where Rhone stood beside her brother and smiled her thanks. His answering expression was wild and proud enough that her heart lurched again, her body’s waning strength rallied and she focused on her enemy.

“I’m going to kill you, Amarantha, Failed Queen and General,” she said as she moved towards her. “I’m going to kill you and all of Prythian will celebrate your failure for a second time.”

Amarantha snarled at her. “You don’t have the guts to kill me. You never did--all those times where you could have slit my throat didn’t matter because all you’ve ever wanted to make me proud of you.” Her laughter felt like a slap to the face and Kali felt her face grow hot at the reminder of all the sacrifices she’d made to appease this creature. “You’re pathetic, Kali. Always will be.” Amarantha’s smile was bloodstained as she watched Kali move closer, “You should thank me for killing your parents before they saw the kind of monster you’ve become.”

Something snapped in her chest, like a taut thread going slack and Kali lunged forward. The fact that she was unarmed and injured was meaningless. Her pain insignificant. Her survival meaningless if she did not destroy the diseased madness that stood before her in the shape of her greatest enemy.

For the first time in her memory, emotions didn’t swamp her mind or come to her call like a barely contained storm. Instead, a cool stream of magic and memory curled down her arm and across her outstretched hand like a translucent snake. Moving on instinct, she threw her hand outward as though it held one of her knives and watched in stunned silence as a blade of clear, perfect water shot across the room and sliced through the meat of Amarantha’s thigh.

The redhead hissed out a surprised breath and shoved a wall of crackling energy back in retaliation. Kali rolled to the side to narrowly avoid it and reached for the cool well of her family’s power like it was a lifeline. She couldn’t bring her parents back to life, she knew, but she could keep them with her in this final battle. She wouldn’t let Tarquin fall to this madwoman and she would be long gone from this earth before she allowed anyone to harm her mate.

The water came easily, eagerly, to her call and she directed it using the same techniques she used for her empathy. It manifested in waves and clouds, in piercing bolts that drew out ragged cries of pain from Amarantha’s lips, and sluggish pools that wrapped around her ankles to slow her movements. She focused on wearing down her opponent, knowing instinctively that Amarantha’s magic would be enough to protect her so long as she could muster it.

The throne room was loud with the sounds of battle and, more than once, she felt the weight of Rhone’s eyes on her back, but she didn’t dare look away. Even injured and on the defensive, Amarantha was a brutal duelist who was bolstered by years of training against Kali’s meager skills. 

And animals were at their most vicious when they were cornered or injured.

They were both bleeding heavily now, sacrificing grace for economical attacks that didn’t require all of their strength. Amarantha’s gown was in tatters and the dark stain from the dagger still lodged in her chest had expanded down her stomach to the folds of her skirt. The wine red of Delorea’s carefully maintained hair hung in lank strands around a face gone pale from blood loss. Her eyes were feverish and flickered around the room constantly to seek out some way to survive a fight that was quickly shifting against her. Judging by the sounds of battle around them, it wouldn’t be long before Rhone and Tarquin joined in to help Kali finish her off.

She spat out a stream of bloodied liquid on the ground and changed tactics. “Do you really wish to see me dead, my little love? After all the years I cared for you?”

The nickname from her childhood felt like a blow and Kali wavered, staring at the female who was responsible for so much death and trying to compare her to the moments of kindness she’d witnessed behind closed doors.

Amarantha smiled, “You know, I’m not as proficient with emotions as you, but I have enough of Delorea’s abilities to know the thought of my death pains you as much as it would me.”

“You don’t deserve the love I gave you,” Kali whispered. “You never did.”

They stood only a few feet away from each other now, both bloodied and tired from more than just today’s battle. Their magic was drained and each attack felt like a bruise set deep in their chests.

“Surely it wasn’t all bad living with me?” Amarantha said and Kali frowned at the faint sincerity in her gaze. “I cared for you.”

“You used me.”

“Everyone uses each other, Kali dear. They all want something from you just as I did--I just never lied to you about what I wanted.”

Kali watched Amarantha take a step closer warily. “It’s too late to pretend like I meant something to you. I learned the hard way that whatever affection you held for me would never be enough to stop you from killing me to get what you wanted.”

“But I didn’t kill you, did I?” Amarantha said, shifting forward, “All of my advisors wanted me to slit your throat in front of the court to send a message to those contemplating rebellion, but I kept you alive.”

“You whipped me until I was all but dead and threw me into the pit.”

“I would have come for you eventually.”

Kali scoffed, “And then what? Continued using my abilities like an addict until you tired of me again?”

Amarantha’s lips twisted downward and Kali felt a flash of sorrow dart across her mental shields like a flutter of wings, there and gone before she could examine it. “You and I belong to each other--I’ve known it from the moment you first looked up at me.”

Kali faltered at the unexpected sentiment and frowned, “You murdered my parents and stole me. I belonged with my family.”

She was so focused on the confusing swirl of emotion and memory from Amarantha that she didn’t notice the curling wisp of red circling her feet like a rope. Rhone’s warning came a moment to late as the magic went taut around her ankles and slammed her to the floor flat on her back. The air left her lungs in a whoosh of displaced breath and she kicked out her feet instinctively. The move was rewarded by a grunt of pain as Amarantha half pounced, half fell on top of her.

Sharp nails raked across Kali’s cheek while her hands scrabbled at the skin of her neck for purchase. Kali ducked her head in tight and slammed the heel of her hand into the ribs just under Amarantha’s injured chest. The attack made Amarantha curse and a fresh surge of wetness drip onto the fabric of Kali’s shirt.

Using a complicated twist that she’d learned from a brawler in the Dawn Court, Kali rotated her hips and yanked with one arm to roll Amarantha under her so she could use her weight and gravity against her. She focused on controlling the rapid fire attacks from the furious female beneath her as another bolt of magic nearly sent her flying.

The room narrowed until all Kali could focus on was the vicious expression on Amarantha’s face and blocking her frenzied attempts to injure Kali enough to dislodge her. All of the noise around them faded beneath the rush of blood in her ears and the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Her mate bond was a warm presence in her soul and ensured Rhone was safe enough for Kali to finish this once and for all. Amarantha’s fist slammed into her solar plexus with enough strength to shatter a few of her ribs and Kali’s body fell forward, barely maintaining the presence of mind to use her body weight to keep Amarantha from escaping to attack again. Something jabbed into her chest and--

Kali’s hands wrapped around the familiar handle of Rhone’s knife.

Amarantha froze, heart stuttering in a frantic beat as she recognized her death rushing closer.

Grey eyes met familiar green as she tightened her hold on the pommel and twisted. Once. Twice.

The body beneath her spasmed weakly and Kali knew with the certainty gained from countless brawls and back alley fights that this would not be an injury Amarantha would survive.

Amarantha choked on the blood now spilling into her lungs and Kali yanked the knife free to clatter to the ground nearby in a dark splatter. Shock crept through her body like an icy mist and she shivered uncontrollably at the sensation of the painful, weakened breaths beneath her. This close she could feel the rhythm of Amarantha’s heart stutter and slow until it was so faint she couldn’t sense it.

Amarantha’s mouth opened and closed as she dragged her eyes up to rest on Kali’s face. A faint smile twitched across her lips and Kali watched her hands shift like she wanted to reach out. “I really did love you, I think,” she whispered.

Kali blinked and was surprised by the dampness that tumbled free to trace lines down her face. “I know…” she murmured, “but it wasn’t enough.”

The would-be queen of Prythian and Under the Mountain smiled faintly and went still, releasing her hold on this earth with a long exhalation.

Blankly, Kali stared down at the fae who was responsible for so much of the pain and misery of her life. She looked at the delicate features of her enemy and thought of all the half-forgotten faces of victims who were never freed from the shadows of Under the Mountain. Stared at the body that was stolen from a foolish child who’d wanted to prove herself worthy of her aunt’s love. 

Kali looked at Amarantha’s body and wondered why she didn’t feel relieved with the knowledge that she was truly gone from this world.

A hand brushed across her shoulder and she turned blurry eyes toward the familiar shape of her mate standing beside her. Rhone ran the knuckle of one hand gently over the tear tracks on her cheek and cupped her face tenderly.

“She’s gone,” Kali said flatly. “She’s dead.”

“I know, love,” he whispered. “I know.”

Like a child with a beloved toy, she reached out for their bond, testing the link for any sign of disappointment or judgement. Instead, she found herself drowning in sympathy and understanding. She bowed her head again, looking down at the blank expression forever locked on Amarantha’s face before she slowly got to her feet. 

Rhone’s expression was gentle and he reached out a hand to steady her when her legs threatened to send her back to the ground. He used the movement to pull her into the line of his body and wrapped his arms around her like he could keep the fractured pieces of her soul contained within the circle of his arms. She felt a quick press of his lips against the crown of her head before he tucked her head neatly under his chin.

“I thought I would feel better after she was gone,” she whispered against the rough leather of his ruined armor. Her hand softly traced the area around the long cut left behind by Amarantha’s knife. “She deserved to die.”

“She did,” he agreed, “but that doesn’t mean you should take pleasure in that.”

“She hurt you.”

“She hurt you too.” There was a sharp bite to his words now and the sound made her grin against his chest almost hysterically. “When will you stop throwing yourself in front of danger, little thief?”

Kali hummed thoughtfully, “I’m not sure...you make a lovely damsel in distress.”

He snorted and she felt some of the tension in her chest ease enough that she didn’t feel like she would shatter if she moved away from him. 

Kali leaned back so she could look at the rest of the room and found Tarquin standing a few feet away with a contemplative expression. “Are you injured?” she asked, scanning his body before he could open his mouth.

His lips twisted in a tired smile, “I should be asking you that.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before,” she said with a shrug and tried not to think about the look exchanged above her head by the two males. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Cresseida will murder me if I don’t make you stay in Adriata until you’re well,” Tarquin replied.

Something sharp and painful twisted at the thought of going back to Adriata with so much left unsaid between the fractured remains of her family. Would Tarquin want her to stay or just disappear as soon as she wasn’t hurt? Would she ever be welcomed back there? His expression was tight around his expressive eyes and she looked down, eyes resting on the bloodied knife at her feet. “I’m sorry that I--”

“Don’t.” Rhone’s voice was sharp, “Don’t pretend to apologize for doing something I know you’d do again.”

Kali’s eyes burned as she nodded miserably. “I just wanted you to know it was all a lie, what I said to her. I never used either of you to help her.”

“We know.” She looked up in surprise when Tarquin spoke instead of Rhone. He ran a hand through his hair apologetically, “Though I’d prefer that you didn’t prove your loyalty by nearly getting killed.”

She shrugged with a hint of humor, “Sometimes that’s the only way that counts.”

Her eyes scanned the destroyed room around them and winced at the devastation. Tarquin’s men lay in bloodied heaps intermixed with the mismatched uniforms of the forces from Hybern that answered Amarantha’s call. So much had been lost for one fae’s ambition.

“We should see if the rest of the attack was successful,” Rhone said. “We’ll need to send out messengers to the other Courts to let them know what happened and that Amarantha is dead.” 

As though his words summoned him, a tall, dark haired male trailing shadows darker than those cast by the chandelier above them stepped in the room. It threw the angles of his face into sharp relief beneath the dark slash of his furrowed brows and the beginnings of a beard softening his jawline. 

Violet eyes scanned the room with a faint smirk upon his lips before they settled on Kali, Rhone and Tarquin. “And here I thought I was coming to your rescue,” he purred, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants, “It looks like you already concluded the festivities for today, Kali.”

Kali stepped out of Rhone’s arms to walk closer and looked over the familiar expression for any signs of pain. “Rhysand,” she said with a note of relief, “I take it the Night Court still stands?”

“As if I’d ever let it fall to Amarantha’s puny forces.”

“And your mate and your family? They’re safe?”

Some of the tightness around his eyes eased at her anxious question and the darkness lingering at the edges of the room faded. “Yes,” he said with a gentle smile, “This will mark the second time Amarantha has failed because she believe my High Lady to be an easy target.”

“Did you see what happened to the Summer and Winter armies outside?” Tarquin asked.

“Last I saw, Varian and the Lady of Winter had things well in hand rounding up those who surrendered. Vivianne sent me inside to make certain her son was safe though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t come down in time to watch you finish her off.”

Rhone sagged against her at the confirmation that his mother was still alive and Kali wrapped her arm around his waist in silent support. “Any sign of Phinn?”

“I believe Phinn was busy flirting with one of my warriors when I stepped through the gates.”

The realization that everyone was somehow--impossibly--safe made her head spin. They had won. It was over now. She let out a choked laugh at the thought. 

Rhysand’s expression was painful in its understanding and only darkened minutely when he looked down at the corpse laying still behind Kali. “Is the spellbook still intact?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, “Amarantha liked to hide it within her throne in case she needed it. I don’t think anyone could raise her again though.”

“Best not to give anyone the chance.” Rhone’s voice was grim and she squeezed him gently in response. The reminder of the ritual he’d been forced to assist in chased away the exhausted satisfaction of the pair.

“I can take the spellbook if no one objects,” Rhysand offered with a wry twist of his lips, “My court has experience with cursed books.”

“I have no objections--despite my affection for what the spellbook brought to Kharos I have no interest in letting it remain in the palace,” Rhone said and a soft smile down at Kali.

“Take it then, Rhys,” Tarquin agreed, “We can destroy what remains of her court so no one will be able to use it as some kind of martyrs’ tomb.”

Kali limped over to the throne standing vacant on the dais nearby. She tried not to stare too long at the bright splash of blood left behind on the back as she pressed her fingertips against the dark metal of the arm rest. Years of practice searching for hidden locks and baubles rewarded her with the faint groove that was nearly invisible to the eyes. A few minutes of gentle searching under the curious eyes of the three males ended with a soft snick and the narrow chamber slid open.

She was glad for a new reason that Amarantha and her magic was gone when the soft scent of ozone warned her that there had been a nasty surprise lying in wait for any would-be thieves. The book’s magic reached out to brush against her skin like the scales of a snake and she shuddered at the sensation. Kali wrapped what was left of her soft leather jerkin over the spine of the spellbook and lifted it carefully out of its hiding place to sit in an unassuming heap in her hands.

“Nicely done,” Rhys murmured with a cheerful wink as she handed it over to him.

“You should’ve seen how easily I took it from Kharos.”

Rhone bared his teeth at her in a playful growl, but his expression was fond at the reminder of the start of their strange courtship.

“All that’s left now is destroying what’s left of Under the Mountain,” Tarquin said.

Then it was Rhone’s turn to step forward, “The cracks in the bedrock left behind when she was resurrected can be expanded with my ice enough to bring it down. Once we’re in the outer tunnels, I can bring it down.”

Kali looked down at the bodies around them and took a deep breath. So much of her past was embedded in these poisoned rocks and prison walls. It was dizzying to think that in a few minutes all of this would be buried under several tons of rocks and dirt. That there would be new generations of children born in a world that grew to forget Amarantha and her nightmarish court.

When she looked up again, the High Lords were watching her with carefully neutral expressions. She knew that Tarquin and Rhone would never truly understand the complicated nature of her relationship with Amarantha. It was something she was grateful for. Perhaps it was best that Rhysand be the only one who remembered how desperately Kali had begged for the scraps of Amarantha’s affection or how proud she’d felt at the brief words of praise after she used her gifts. 

That part of her had died the moment she’d entered into the darkness of the pit and emerged a new creature.

So it wasn’t difficult to close the door on this final link to her former life.

“Do it.”

Rhone’s power flowed out of him in a glittering wave, covering the bodies with an opaque shield that disguised the horrors of their deaths. She heard the rock creak in sluggish warning as his ice filled in the gaps in the support beams that kept the mountain above their head at bay. It was a jarring display of his new power and she felt pride in her mate bloom warm and bright against the chill of the winter magic.

Rhysand gestured her forward to the tunnel that would lead them out the main entrance with a flourish and Tarquin took up her other side. The Lord of Night glanced back to where Amarantha’s corpse and Kali felt a bolt of savage pleasure that told her he had ensured there was nothing left of it any longer.

Rhone followed a few feet behind her, brow furrowed in concentration that was rewarded with the sounds of the tunnels on the other side of the throne room beginning their collapse. 

“Kali…” Tarquin’s voice was soft and unsure in the relative gloom of the hallway and she looked over at him curiously, “I know you’re probably going to make your home in Kharos with your mate, but…you’ll always be welcome in Adriata.”

Kali’s traitorous heart slowed then lurched forward like a wildfire, spreading cheerful heat along tired muscles. “You don’t have to…”

Hands rough with hard work warmed by a bright sun smoothed over the tangled silver of her hair in a gentle, unfamiliar caress. “Our family has been separated long enough because of Amarantha,” he said softly, “It’s time we changed that.”

She swallowed hard, tears running over her cheeks and gleaming in the sunlight shining through the exit ahead of them. Her voice was raw with emotion that she didn’t bother to shield from her brother. Gratitude. Love. A fragile hope that was as unfamiliar as the realization that she was no longer facing a future of uncertainty and solitude. 

His eyes looked suspiciously damp when she beamed up at him. “You couldn’t keep me away, brother.”

Tarquin’s smile was wide and beautiful enough to steal her breath. “Good,” he said and tugged the end of her hair in a teasing gesture, “I have to make up for several years where I didn’t get to play the role of big brother with you.”

He nodded to her mate as he came to walk on Kali’s other side before moving ahead to speak with Rhysand in a quiet voice. The two High Lords made their way into the makeshift army camp outside the entrance side by side and laughing softly at some joke.

Kali stopped at the edge of the ruined entrance of Under the Mountain, staring out at the cheering army beyond. She felt the familiar fear grip her chest at the thought that this might all be a dream. That this might just be another dream and she would open her eyes to see the blank darkness of the pit waiting for her.

A battle-rough hand gently slipped down her arm to lace their fingers together and she looked up at her mate helplessly.

Rhone grinned crookedly and tugged her hand up to press a kiss against her knuckles. “Together, my little thief?” he murmured.

Her grip tightened around his as emotion--bright and beautiful and clean--caressed her mind. For the first time in her life, she could see the future waiting for her within reach. A future where she was loved and cherished and safe. A future where she could be good and kind. 

A future with Rhone.

Her smile was wobbly with emotion, but her voice was steady. “Together, princeling.”

Together they took their first steps out of the darkness and into the light.

 

~ The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe this story is actually finished. I am beyond grateful for those of you who stuck with me through slow updates and almost 150,000 (!) words. It's a little insane honestly. I'm toying with the idea of writing an epilogue that let's you see what life is like on the other side of this madness for our lovely thief and her soldier, but the majority of the story is now finished. With it, I will now be focusing on finishing The Court of Storm and Shadow so feel free to check out Aria and Stryker's story there.
> 
> I know I've said it before and, since is this is the last chapter, I'll scream it one last time on behalf of my fickle muse and the comment-driven writer who tends it...THANK YOU FOR READING. Every one of your comments has literally made me wildly happy and I am so glad I got this opportunity to get to know many of you. You're wonder, beautiful creatures and I wish you every bit of happiness available on this earth. I adore you and I already miss you guys. Hit me up on tumblr or in the comments so we can stay in touch!


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